Love Tastes the Sweetest When Forbidden
by Sizzia
Summary: Following his father's demand, Damon Salvatore becomes the bodyguard for the Duchess, Elena Gilbert. Takes place in the 1800s in England.
1. Intro

_AN: Hi again. So I got this story in my head and I had to get it out._

_Thank you **KaterinaPetrova** for being my lovely beta! You are amazing!_

_This is of course set in an AU, so no sexy vamps in this one, but I can promise you that almost every char that we have seen in the series from TVD will be here. I will love to hear your thoughts and comments of course as well as the story progresses._

_Disclaimer: No I don't own TVD nor its chars, duh, I solely own my own plot._

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_Love Tastes the Sweetest When Forbidden_

_Following his father demands, Damon Salvatore becomes the bodyguard of the Duchess, Elena Gilbert._

_**15th of April, 1803**_

Damon paced nervously in the foyer of the Gilbert mansion. To say he was nervous was an understatement, he knew he was already hired for this job, but that did little to keep his nerves at bay. He needed to make a good impression or his father would be furious with him. This was an exquisite opportunity for his family to gain more respect in the community. They were a very respected and a wealthy family in Italy, but after his mother's passing, his father, Giuseppe Salvatore had locked himself away from his sons and started to drain their business, respect, and money over the years. When Damon was twenty-two years old, his father thought it would be a great idea to move to England to start anew, saving his family from the brink of destruction. He had put all his faith in his sons and their well educated ways.

Stefan had always been the favorite son, getting all the praise, while Damon always had to work extra hard even to be noticed by their drunken father. Giuseppe spent all their remaining money to start a new business in England and taught Stefan the ropes on how to handle it.

The business was a law firm, and since Stefan had educated himself in the ways of the law, (at least the Italian law) he was the bright future for Giuseppe. Stefan re-read the law books, English ones, and over the first two years he gained fame and praise for his hard work and accomplishments. He was a great lawyer at the young age of twenty. This company helped mend the bond between Stefan and their father immensely, and they became good friends and co-workers. Damon, of course, was the outcast.

The older Salvatore brother worked where his father deemed best – in the English army. In the four years they had lived in England, Damon rose to the rank Captain very quickly for a young foreigner. He was skilled in battle and in strategies. When he told his father the news, he just scoffed at him, telling him he could do better then that. His interests were never the same as Giuseppe's, and he always had to hear it. What Damon wanted to do in life be damned if it didn't please his father in some way, even when he succeeded. Damon had given up trying to please his father a long time ago. Until this opportunity came along.

It was when the Commandeer had praised Damon's efforts in the army, and notified his father that the Duchess was in need of a bodyguard, that he had finally acknowledged that Damon did something right. The position offered great money and respect – more than the army would give. Not that Damon really was excited to look after a rich snob most of his day. He was a womanizer, a drinker that hung out at the pubs in the poorer parts of London. It took his mind of what he really wanted to do.

Damon loved music, especially the piano. Back in Italy he had written lots of music for the piano and was well known for his talent. What he really wanted to become was a pianist or a composer, but his father tried to beat it out of him, claiming Damon was not a man enough if he wanted to play music. So he was forced to join the Italian army when he was eighteen. He had learn a lot there, during war and with the training you had to endure, and now his father had put it to use here in England.

Giuseppe kept saying that if he messed this great opportunity to be a bodyguard for the Duchess, he would shoot him himself. Being a bodyguard to the Duchess was a great honor, and it would work in Giuseppe's favor.

Damon was hired by the Duchess's uncle, John Gilbert, on the recommendation of the Commandeer. John had become her guardian after the Duchess parents passed away.

So here he was, pacing around, trying to calm his nerves, wanting to please his father and the family name. His first mission was to escort the Duchess to a ball this evening. The Gilberts were a popular and a wealthy family. This meant that along the wealth and popularity, the Duchess also was a target for many people as she had very strict views on the political system. The Duchess uncle was concerned for his nieces' safety outside the home and therefore Damon was there.

The rules were simple when on duty:

_He wasn't allowed to talk to the Duchess or anyone else except upon greeting._

_He wasn't allowed to eat or drink in her company._

_He wasn't allowed to let the Duchess out of his sight except for her lady business._

_He wasn't allowed to touch the Duchess in any manner._

_Break any of the rules and he would be out faster then he could say, "how do you do" or worse, penalized._

If he passed the very simple test of escorting the Duchess to the ball, he would get more missions, and if he proved to be a good guard, he would eventually live at the Gilbert mansion. Damon heard steps coming down from the grand marble staircase, and glanced up to see John Gilbert coming down. He gave Damon a quite scrutinizing look as he reached the end of the stairs.

"Ah, you are Damon? The Salvatore boy?"

"Yes, my lord." Damon replied while bowing.

"My niece should be down in just a matter of minutes, so I want to set the record straight before she does."

Damon nodded, waiting for him to continue. "You know the rules, I presume?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Then I don't need to inform you of what would happen if you break any of these rules?"

"No, my lord."

"Good. My niece is quite a... free spirited character. Don't fall for her temptations and choice of lifestyle."

"Choice of lifestyle, my lord?"

"She is..._ different_ from her fellow aristocratic friends. I thought with her parent's passing it would change, but we are but just humble servants to the Duchess." John bit out the words but forced a smile on his lips, thinking that Damon probably wouldn't notice.

"You are to be invisible and just keep her safe. If she does something that is not appropriate for her status, you may intervene depending on the situation, but unless it is vulgar beyond reproach, you should not even be noticed."

"Yes, my lord."

"Good, then I think we are done here. Just in time it seems." John's eyes turned to the staircase. Damon's eyes followed and he swallowed thickly. He had to do all in his power not to openly gasp or stare gaudily at the Duchess. She was exquisite. One of the most beautiful women he had ever laid eyes on. His heart even pounded furiously against his chest as she gracefully continued to walk down the stairs. Her dark, curly hair was pinned to her sides forming a tight bun at the back of her head, while she had some locks hanging loose, capturing her frame. She was wearing a high waisted white as virgin snow corset that hugged her body so deliciously, just to have the lower part of the dress flow. And her face... there were no words to explain how perfect she was.

Damon gulped, he shouldn't have these thoughts at all. It was certainly not proper.

"Uncle," She curtseyed to her uncle. She hadn't even noticed Damon yet, which for some reason made him feel a bit disappointed.

"My dear niece, may I present you to your new bodyguard, Damon Salvatore. He will look after you whenever you leave the house."

Her big, brown eyes turned to Damon and he felt his heart skip a beat as she did. Her mouth opened a little, and she seemed to be struck speechless and stared at Damon for what seemed a lifetime to him. Her uncle interrupted their eye contact with a fake cough.

The dark haired beauty extended her hand, palm down, with some measure of politeness and smiled hesitantly. Damon took it in his gently.

"Your Grace," Damon whispered to her quietly as he brushed his lips on her soft knuckles. The second they touched, Damon's stomach exploded with butterflies. He scowled himself for acting like a hormonal teenager that never had seen a beautiful woman.

"Mr. Salvatore." She answered with soft chuckle. He stared at her longer than was appropriate and it was her uncle that again interrupted their moment.

"Elena, this is not proper behavior."

"Oh, uncle, I don't see why it is not proper to greet the man that will spend most of his time protecting me."

"He doesn't get paid for social conversation," his uncle scolded her.

"Very well, if it upsets you so." Elena sighed, but when her eyes interlocked with Damon's, she smiled quickly at him again, making his lower stomach clench.

Damon had a feeling this was going to be more difficult then what he had bargained for.


	2. The Beginning

_AN: Thank you for all the alerts and favorites! It makes me all giddy inside and a special thank you for those that review this story. I love hearing your thoughts and I thank you for spending your time writing a review. It means a lot to me! _

_And I want to thank my darling **KaterinaPetrova** for being an awesome beta for this story._

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_**15th of April, 1803**_

Elena did not expect such a young man to serve as her protecter. Of course she had only had two personal bodyguards before, but they were much older then this one. When she first saw him, her heart had stopped for a second.

His skin was milky white, and his hair was semi-short, and a black color. He was tall and well muscled, seemingly athletic. He was a mystery, and that just made him all the more interesting. His eyes were the most captivating thing she had ever seen. Crystal blue ones that she could lose herself in if she would let it.

He was an extremely handsome man, and she had forgotten all her manners. She couldn't keep her eyes of him, until her uncle woke her from her reverie.

When he touched her and she felt his lips on her hand, her heart quickened its pace. Her cheeks suddenly felt hot, and when she heard him speak, her knees almost went weak. This was not proper at all, but she couldn't shake what she felt in his presence. She did not know this man, wasn't supposed to know him, and in less then a minute he made her body... She didn't know how to describe the rush of feelings her core was experiencing.

When they did leave for her carriage, he followed her so quietly, she shouldn't even have noticed him, but she did. She could practically feel his stare as he walked behind her and it made her feel all... warm.

As they finally arrived at the ball, her guardian positioned himself at the side of the door, next to a servant, and just watched the room.

When the hostess and her best friend Lady Caroline Forbes saw Elena's arrival, a bright white smile spread across her face as she hurried as ladylike as possible to the Duchess. Her blond locks bounced on her shoulders as she arrived and hugged her best friend.

Elena always found sanctuary at Caroline's place. The titles didn't make that much matter in her house, and Elena loved it. She had never been one to love being overly cared for, and preferred doing things by herself and not having people bow at her every movement. Caroline wasn't a lady of very high status, but she was married to the mayor of London, Tyler Lockwood. And now she was one of the most popular ladies to be friends with. She always threw the most original, splendid parties and it was an honor to be invited to her house for those occasions.

Caroline's and Tyler's relationship was something Elena envied. It caused a big scandal in the beginning when they married – because they married out of love, not because the families would benefit from it. This scandal was quickly overlooked once people got to know Caroline. She was kind and caring and she had been Elena's friend since childhood.

"I wasn't sure you would make it, your uncle makes it quite impossible for me to notify you at these events."

"I wouldn't miss this for the world. You always throw the best parties." Elena flashed wide smile at her friend. Caroline giggled. She had angelic features, white porcelain skin, plump red lips and golden hair that glimmered like the sun in the right light. She wore a stunning navy blue dress with a black corset and white stripes.

"Why is he so paranoid? It would only be worse if you stopped attending the social gatherings."

"You know my uncle, he is afraid I will do something that will shame my family's heritage."

"He is such a tool!"

Elena sighed, "I know, but because he is my guardian. It changes everything, Caroline."

"Remember that you are the Duchess, not him."

"I'm also a woman, and until I'm married, he has the right to decide what I do and don't do."

"Have I mentioned how much I detest your uncle?" Elena chuckled at Caroline's heated comment and hugged her best friend again.

"At least he hasn't managed to pawn any of his suitors on me. I can be quite...frightful." They both erupted in giggles and enjoyed the party.

Elena often found herself glancing his way; she couldn't stop herself. There was just something about him that intrigued her, something she couldn't explain. She shouldn't feel this way, but she just couldn't shake the notion that this was different; _he_ was different.

"I do have to ask, Elena," Caroline whispered as she came close to her again, "Who _is_ that man?"

Elena found herself grinning, "My uncle found it necessary to hire a bodyguard for my safety."

Caroline fanned herself with her hand as her cheeks blushed. "A very attractive bodyguard," she purred.

"He is." Elena answered in a quiet tone, founding herself staring again at _him_, she was drawn to him.

Caroline's eyes widened for a second, "Have you been assaulted since-"

"No, I haven't been," the Duchess said to quickly, and the panic was evident in her voice, "but they still haven't been found." That particular memory when she was almost assassinated was not a pleasant topic for her to discuss. It happened half a year ago when she was almost shot in the town square. Being of the highest aristocratic stature besides the royal family made her a target for people who wanted aristocrats dead after the revolution in France. Of course they didn't know who the shooter was and having a bodyguard wasn't just for protection from the people who wanted her dead. Some others that did not like what the Gilbert family represented.

"I wonder who would have hired them? You would think that your fellow aristocratic friends would not be afraid of what a woman thought of society."

"One voice can start many things, Caroline."

"Anyway, less chit chat concerning morbid talk, let's talk more about your..._guard_." She drawled the last part out seductively.

"Paws off, married woman!" Elena playfully chided. She did notice that most women had inappropriately gawked at him in one way or another, but he either didn't seem to notice or didn't dare to care.

Caroline snickered, "He isn't of any stature, is he?"

"I don't know, and honestly, I don't care." Elena whispered, earning a confused stare from Caroline.

"Oh, Elena, don't think thoughts like that. It's wicked."

"I'm not having any thoughts, other then admitting his looks. Besides, you don't have to be of high stature to be a honorable person."

"Of course not, isn't equality what you are fighting for?"

"It's what my father fought for, so yes its my cause as well. You would have thought that the French Revolution would change things here in England, that we would learn. Unfortunately, it barely has, and it's people are tired of it."

"Elena, these are dangerous businesses to talk about."

"Everything is dangerous one way or another, it's all about perspective, my dear friend." Elena winked at Caroline, who just shook her head.

"Just be careful, that's all I ask. I don't know what I would do without you." Elena smiled at Caroline and just gently squeezed her shoulder in reassurance.

As the party went on she smiled through dances, music and lots of drinking of champagne, as well as mingling, which was necessary. Not that she practically enjoyed it, and Elena found herself drinking more wine then she normally did. Her eyes always dashed to the very handsome raven-haired man who had been standing at the same spot for hours. He looked tired as he scanned the room, until his eyes fell upon her.

It felt like all sound had disappeared from the room, and everything slowed down. Her heart pounded so hard against her chest she had problem breathing. She felt chills crawling up her back as they continued to stare until he broke their gaze.

"Ah, my dear Duchess." Elena let out a tight gasp, feeling that her corset sucked her breathing out of her more then usual. She swirled around to find the source of the voice and flashed a brilliant smile.

"Mr. Donovan," she curtseyed as the sandy blonde man bowed in front of her.

"Would you like to join me for a dance?" He stretched out his arm as new tune started to play.

Matthew Donovan, preferably called Matt, was the Mayor's closest friend, and earned a high place as his advisor.

Elena internally sighed, but put on a big smile, "Of course."

As he led her to the dance floor, she looked at her mysterious protecter. _Damon Salvatore_, she mused in her head, his name just as tempting as the man himself. Matt started to lead her across the ball room, with more couples joining in.

He was staring at her too, and it felt so intense, and was making her feel all warm, so when she flicked her eyes back to Matt, she wasn't surprised that her breaths came out in short, silent pants.

"Have you considered my offer?" Matt asked timidly, his eyes hesitant.

Elena let out a sigh and looked in pity at her friend's face, "You know my uncle would never approve." It was a poor excuse, but she didn't want to hurt the man's feelings.

"Your uncle is also just that. Your guardian. He is still an Earl, and nothing will change it."

"Until I wed, you know he has control over everything."

"Marry me then. I would never control you like that. I'm the mayor's advisor, surely that must count for something." He told her passionately.

"Matt, don't go there." Elena pleaded, starting to feel uncomfortable as Matt's fingers dug deeper in her skin and leading her with more force then intended.

"I would make you happy, and you know that. People may frown however much they want, but if I marry you, you would be happy."

"And it has nothing to do with you. Would you be a Duke as well if you married me? You know uncle wouldn't let someone that didn't have as high standing wed into our family without a very high dowry and probably not even then."

"I'm the Mayor's advisor, I might not be of aristocratic heritage but I would make you happy and you know that, Elena." Matt leaned closer in to her face and she turned her cheek to the side to avoid smelling his breath, reeking of alcohol.

"Matt..."

"How long are you going to wait? You are already nineteen years old and still not married. Soon enough, men won't even want you." Matt spat out heatedly.

Elena gasped at his audacity and tried to squirm out of his grasp, but he held her steadily in a very stealthy manner cause no one seemed to notice what was going on.

Elena glared at him, "I understand your anger, but let me go, Matt."

"I won't until you say yes." He gripped her hand and waist so hard, she let out a gasp of pain.

"What I say doesn't matter." She whispered fiercely to her drunk friend who was usually a very nice, polite young man. She knew he had feelings for her, but it frightened her how much the alcohol had an impact on the man. It turned him into an abusive beast.

Elena really didn't want to make a scene, she knew Matt was a decent man, when not on alcohol. As he twirled her around, she frantically looked for the one man that was supposed to guard her, and she spotted him. He was looking at her pointedly, his shoulders tense and his jaw clenched. She screamed at him with her eyes to take her away from this man. It looked like it was all that was needed. Damon was there faster then she could see, and flashed a dangerous smile towards Matt, who was solely focused on Elena.

"May I?" He asked, as permission to dance with her.

"Of course, Mr. Salvatore," Elena whispered, but Matt still didn't let go of her hands, and took hold of her wrists.

"No you may not, the Duchess and I are quite busy."

Damon smirked, and Elena did not expect that angelic face to be just as attractive when turned into a sneer, "It seems to me that the Duchess is trying to get away, and I don't think it would be wise to keep her where she doesn't wished to be kept." Damon finished, his voice dropping to a lower octave and sounding very threatening. His voice was so smooth even when it came out harsh. It vibrated like music through her ears.

Matt snorted, giving them both a glare but before letting go of Elena's wrists he hissed, "This is not over," before walked away. They had earned a few stares, but Elena didn't care. Damon's clothes and having a sword kept at his side, clearly spoke volumes of what he was and the work he was hired to do.

Her wrists felt sore and she massaged them gracefully as she decided to dare to look at her savior. Damon stared past where Matt went and when he thought it was clear, he turned his gaze tentatively to Elena, before giving a quick bow and walking off.

Elena's eyes widened in surprise and on instinct she grabbed his arm. She felt his muscles under the clothes and her ribcage felt as it was about to explode. She immediately sensed that Damon was not comfortable as he tensed under her touch. He turned to face her and she let her hand drop.

"Thank you," she whispered sincerely, her big, brown eyes stared into those ocean blue ones.

He seemed stunned for a second by her words, but he offered a smile, and it was gorgeous to see his seductive grin. He nodded his head before he resumed his position at the door. Elena suddenly felt the need to fan herself.

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Damon sat down at his favorite place in the tavern, exhaling deeply as he did. It was one of the shittier pubs in London, but he loved it. It was filled with life, drunken fools, music – oh the wonderful music and of course women that didn't have a stick up their arses. He saw his favorite friend Alaric and waved him over.

Less than an hour ago he had dropped of the Duchess into the safety of her own home. The entire evening had been...exhausting.

"Two shots of the best bourbon you have," he winked at the barmaid passing by them just as Alaric sat down in the empty chair in front of Damon. She giggled like he thought she would, and a nice blush crept on her cheeks before she scurried of to get their order.

"You seem to be in a good mood." Alaric chuckled.

"Yes, because I like to drown my happiness in alcohol when I feel so giddy," Damon sarcastically said, eyeing his friend, earning a very confused stare.

"Ah, the bodyguard duty not living up to your expectation?"

"The bodyguard job is not the problem, its who I have to guard that's driving me nuts!"

"I heard that the Duchess is friendly. At least thats what the rumors says."

Damon sighed, his mind flashing to what had happened. The stares they exchanged that made his blood boil and when she looked terrified when dancing with the bum that dared to hold her against her will. But he was powerless to do something unless she commanded it or if she would be in more danger, which was not likely in the middle of a party.

When she touched him, looking at him with such innocence and said thank you, he couldn't coherently think for a moment. Her touch felt like fire spreading through all his veins, his heart beating almost at inhuman speed, and when she said those words with those perfect lips, his mind disconnected from his body. Two rules were already broken, although talking the advisor of the Mayor was because he needed to protect the Duchess, the second one was when she touched his arm. He would be out if John Gilbert would find it out. He didn't think he would, but he hoped no more rules would be broken. He really didn't need his father's wrath on top of everything else that happened tonight. He wished he could ask how she was after the bum had left her. He wished that he could respond to her words, but he couldn't.

Damon was well experienced with women, and he never tied himself down except for his childhood sweetheart whom he was with until he had to move to England. It had ended in disaster, scarring him for life and after that he kept his heart away. He still took pleasure in beautiful women that were willing though, but never brought them to his place, where his father would probably disown him if he saw the company Damon would bring home. So it was always in the alleys or in her home. He never thought he would be this affected by a woman, because he was always in control of what he felt, always in control of his body, and she just... made him feel like he just hit his puberty again.

"That's not the problem either," he groaned, staring intensely at the candle on their table like it was the most fascinating thing that had ever happened.

"Should be an easy enough job to do, and you're earning loads of money, so what's bothering you, grand champion of bourbon?"

Should he really tell Ric what he felt, how she looked at him? It was just bound to be a recipe for disaster...

"She is so beautiful and it's...excruciating to watch her. She is perfect, and when she smiles and speaks, its just...too much." Damon ran his hand through his hair, breathing heavily.

Alaric let out a troubled sigh, "Damon...," he warned.

"I know, Ric, I know. It's probably the flu of 'wanting to have what you can't have', it will pass as soon I get some frustrations out. Its just...attraction. God forbid that I would have it easy."

"I hope so for your sake, my friend, or this will end badly for you." Ric sounded really concerned. He wasn't used for Damon to refer a woman with such a pained voice and with so much emotions. He only worked for the Gilberts one day, and he was already messed up.

"When are you going back?"

Before Damon could answer, the barmaid came by their table again, and handed both of them their drinks. "Here you go, gentlemen." She purred as she eyed Damon.

"Thank you my lovely," Damon wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, brushing his fingers over her arm. He didn't feel the sparks when he looked at her, but she was cute enough with her heavy make-up, revealing dress, and black curls. It would provide distraction that he needed. He was stupid that he felt such things for the Duchess.

When she left, Damon smirked at Ric who just shook his head at him. "Why are you looking at me with those judging eyes of yours?"

"You going to end up with a disease one of these days the way you carry on."

Damon chuckled and downed his scotch in one go. "Very supportive, Ric. Don't you have a wife to hurry home to?"

"Sure, Damon, deny it all you want. You know I'm right. It wouldn't kill you to maybe find a wife of your own."

Damon shuddered at the thought. When Ric left, he quickly seduced the barmaid, pounding out all his frustrations into her in the back alley behind the tavern. Strangely when he got home, he didn't feel more relaxed and he couldn't stop thinking about her. It would be one week until his services were needed again.


	3. First Encounter

_**AN: **So here is the 3rd chapter. Hope you will like it! And I want to give a special hug to my wonderful beta, **KaterinaPetrova** for tweaking and helping me fix the chapter!_

_And more hugs to the people that alerted and put this story on their favorite lists, thank you! And a huge thank you to all of you that reviews the story. Makes me so, so, so happy!_

_And the last hug is for my friend **Xeriana**, that made such a cool trailer for this story and it made me hold my breath while looking at it! The link to the trailer can be found on my profile page, and I would recommend for you to see it because its that awesome!_

_Disclaimer: Nope still don't own TVD :(_

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_**22th of April, 1803**_

Elena slowly twirled her finger around a dark, curly lock, sighing happily. He would come today, and she shouldn't feel anything about it, but she did. She felt nervous, with color rushing to her cheeks whenever she thought of his face, or his velvet voice that hummed to her body like a siren. She closed her eyes sitting in front of the mirror, playing with her hair as she thought of him, and a big smile appeared on her face.

He was so handsome, and he had been constantly on her mind since the ball. She hated and loved it. It was a nice distraction from her uncle's insistent nagging about finding her suitors and blaming her for things her father did. She had to resist the urge to slap him across the face when he was out of line but that would only increase the tension between them.

When John Gilbert found out what Grayson, Elena's father had done, he was not happy when he took the role as Elena's guardian.

He thought they still owned Devonshire, but Grayson and Miranda had given the land away to poorer farmer families. This was highly frowned upon so they had kept it a secret. So, with no land of their own except the mansion in London and their castle on the countryside, the Gilberts didn't have anything else except their status, popularity, and wealth.

When her parents had a son when Elena was three years old, the family was overjoyed. Sadly, it was short lived. Her baby brother, Jeremy had gotten very sick and died when he reached the age of five. The doctor said it was caused by a high fever, but it seemed to everyone that he was feeling better, to which he responded that it was cruel fate of life. When her parents died, Elena had closed herself off from the community, she felt so alone and deprived. She kept saying that she was fine, and most people just paid their respect and didn't delve into how she was really feeling with the exception of Caroline and her hand maid Bonnie. They had been her anchors this whole time, especially when John Gilbert moved in their mansion in London and caged her like a little bird. He only let her out when forcing her to go to social gatherings. It was on her 18th birthday that she was allowed to meet her friends more often and go to the events she wanted to go to as long she didn't disgrace the family name. John was so paranoid. Elena really never did anything that would have questioned her status or something outrageous but she had a feeling that John was afraid that she would spew what she and her parents believed in. The people used to love the Gilberts before the French Revolution, and didn't seem to care that they actually supported their cause all along – just plain and simple wanted the same change that the french had achieved.

It had been three years since her parents had died and she was starting to feel alive now. She felt things she didn't think possible, and it was all thanks to him. She wondered how she would be able not to talk to him, not look at him, not touch him when he was the one making her feel the way she did.

Elena had asked John why Damon was quiet, and he explained that like all bodyguards for the higher class, they were supposedly invisible until needed. It made her sad, but she knew the rules, she had hoped it would be different with him. There were too many rules of what was expected of her, because how she was born. Her father and mother always praised her free spirited character and loved her so much. Her father promised her that when the time came for her too marry, she would choose her suitor no matter who it was, which very rare for people like her. But her father trusted her and her feelings, and he said it wouldn't matter to them who she chose only if she was happy.

Grayson was a valiant fighter for equal rights for all people, that all people, including women deserved to have same rights, have same prospects and same chance to get the work they wished. Democracy was the goal of his lifetime.

The Gilberts were not loved by their fellow aristocratic friends for their views, but Grayson was still a Duke and that made people fear him more then anything. They were not friends, as they hated what the Gilberts stood for. But it was all a game and pretense as their family – no matter their views – were still very rich, well connected and had the highest stature with the one exception of the royal family. Elena knew they all hated her and loved her uncle.

Her parents deaths came as a surprise. The family doctor had claimed it was food poisoning, but Elena knew better. They had many enemies, and she knew that they had been cruelly murdered. She couldn't prove it, probably would never be able to, but she was frustrated that most people seemed happy that they were gone, and they were not intimidated by her. She was only sixteen when this happened, and she would not be able to be as vocal about her political beliefs as her father was. John Gilbert did not share his brothers views and was very stuck in the same old ways as most of their social nest, fearing change above all else.

Elena shook her head, feeling immensely saddened when thinking of her parents and little brother, how much she missed them, then her thoughts wandered to her mysterious bodyguard.

A knock on her door interrupted her musings, and her hand maid entered the room.

"Your grace," She said quietly while curtseyed. Elena just smiled at her, "Bonnie, you do not need to do that." Her maiden looked at her with a quick smile, "your uncle insists. I think he found out about your...ways," she chuckled making Elena laugh as well. Elena liked to fix her own hair but that was unacceptable by a woman of her stature. She never wore makeup as she liked her natural look, and if she would even dare to John would be abhorred as any respectable women did not ware makeup anymore as it was associated with prostitutes.

Bonnie made her way to Elena, and took up her brush and started to comb her hair. Bonnie had been hired by Grayson's house steward when Elena was fourteen years old when her Lady's maid had died in sickness. She was the same age as Elena, and was her friend and confidant. They had always been close and Elena never saw her as someone that was hired to be here, neither did Bonnie. While Caroline was her best friend, she could sometimes not tell her heart's desires because of Caroline's overly neurotic nature and her need to protect Elena if she would think improper thoughts. Bonnie was different in that regard. When John became her guardian, he fired all her father's staff and hired new ones except for a house steward as he did not trust people to take care of their finances and preferred to do so himself the hiring and the normal steward handled the pays although he kept a very keen eye on him. He got rid of everyone except Bonnie because of Elena's stubbornness and fierce determination to keep her.

Bonnie had a lovely mocha tone to her skin, dark eyes and raven locks. She was quite stunning and her smile always made Elena smile. They had that effect on each others.

"Sooo..." Bonnie started in a playful tone, "I saw your new personal guard. He is quite different from the two other ones."

"What do you mean by different?"

"He is handsome." She exclaimed in a fit of giggles as she continued to brush Elena's hair.

"Do you know if he is married?" She asked Elena.

"I do not." Elena said to quickly, and her cheeks became suddenly hot.

Bonnie noticed her reaction and arched a curious eyebrow at her, "so I'm not the only one that finds him handsome I see," she smirked at her, with a glint of mirth in her eyes.

"Bonnie!" Elena chided.

"Elena!" She responded in the same tone while smiling at her friend, while wiggling her eyebrows.

She huffed and slumped her shoulders, "he is handsome, I give him that. That is not a sin is it?"

"No, but you have particular taste in men as you find almost no one attractive."

Elena gave her a glare that screamed, _very funny!_

"I guess he is escorting you tonight to the Mayor's mansion in the countryside then?"

"He is, its what he is hired for."

"Am I coming with you as well?"

"No sadly. Caroline said her own staff would be there so there would not be need to bring my own. Damon is different, he is not a servant of the house in the same way."

"You call him by his name?" Bonnie quietly asked.

"Why is that a bad thing?"

"Because you are not supposed to."

"His name is Damon."

"Elena, you know what I mean..." Bonnie stared at her through the mirror with a suspicious look in her eyes, and Elena averted her intense stare.

"Just...be careful." She sighed, not wanting to push the matter further.

"Why do you expect me to do? Something crazy because of him?"

"Have you seen yourself when you talk of him? Your cheeks blush and you breathe quicker."

Elena stuttered, "I do not!"

"You do. Elena... John would never sanction a relationship between the two of you. It would be impossible."

"I would never-" Elena started in a furious manner and then sighed, "Just because I find him handsome-" Bonnie cut her off, "I'm just warning you. That is all, Elena."

She put away Elena's brush and fixed her hair in a beautiful hairdo. It was pinned on the sides, but the let her long, curly hair flow on the backside.

"What dress do you want to wear for the evening?"

Elena's mind involuntarily flashed to crystal blue, and knew what she wanted to wear immediately.

* * *

It was in the afternoon when Damon arrived at the Gilbert mansion, he was to escort her to a social evening with a few of the Duchess's friends. He noticed that he felt nervous about taking her to her friend's home. His palms felt sweaty and he felt beyond silly for his bodily behavior. He only saw servants walking around the mansion. John Gilbert was not in for the moment, and Damon took this moment to look beyond the foyer to keep his anxious mind of a certain goddess in the same house as him. He tried not to think of her, and when she did pop up, he ended up in the tavern, drinking and screwing the many willing women that seemed to fawn over him whenever he talked to them. Damon knew he was an attractive man, and he knew how to talk to women, with the exception of _her._..He shook his head and walked to the grand white door on the left side of the foyer and peeked in, curious to what to see.

His jaw almost dropped when he saw this was one of the salon in the home. There was magnificent piano in the middle of the beige room. There were sofas and cafe tables places around the corners of the room. The light from the big windows just shined at the piano as it was meant for Damon to see. His fingers itched to play those soft tunes again. He wondered if the Duchess would mind if he did. He couldn't resist the pull as he walked closer to the piano, caressing the wooden surface with his hand, remembering from the days in Italy where he played in his old home. He carefully sat down on the stool in front and with shaking hands he placed his hands on top of the tangents and softly pressed down, hearing the flow of music in his ears. He forgot everything while he played, and the more tunes that came from the tangents, the more passionately he started to play. His nervousness disappeared, he became one with the music, hearing only it as he continued to play.

"You play beautifully," her voice broke his moment of peace, and he got so startled by her, he jumped backwards, almost falling of the stool. He hastily stood up and looked at the goddess in front of him, and it took everything in him to not gawk at her. Her hair, in perfect hairdo, with a small ruby red hat on top of it, reminding him of greek, mythological women. Her dress was in deep blue color, with a light pink ribbon below her breasts, and the corset tightly around her waist, pushing up her cleavage, giving him of rather pleasant sight whenever she drew a breath. She stood silently at the doorframe, smiling sweetly at him, albeit hesitant as she was afraid what would happen.

Damon knew he wasn't allow to talk to her, but he couldn't stop himself, "I'm sorry, your grace. I-I..." He stuttered, he actually stuttered! He never stammered before women. He felt his cheeks heating up as she continued to look at his failed attempts at redeeming himself of the actions.

"I promise I won't tell uncle." She whispered in a playful tone. Her smile was intoxicating and the way she was dressed, made him feel very uncomfortable in the lower parts of his body. He wanted to answer in his typical manner, but knew he couldn't. So he settled for a trademark smirk of his and bowed slowly.

"Where did you learn to play?" She asked, still standing at the same spot, fiddling with her hands in front of her.

Damon's heart pounded, he knew he couldn't answer that. There were no rules for when the Duchess actually asked him a question, because she probably never would.

"I think it's fine for you to answer if I ask you certain things I want to know, don't you?" she continued, arching one of her eyebrows while she offered him a reassuring soft grin.

"I learned the instrument when I was very young in Italy, your grace." He answered politely and quickly, feeling the collar on his neck being far to tight.

"You were not born in England?" She asked with a hint of surprise in her tone.

"No, your grace. I don't think the name Salvatore is common here by any chance." He said jokingly, then closed his eyes, reprimanding that he talks to much, thinking he was far out of line.

To his surprise, she chuckled. "I suppose it is not."

There was a silent that fell upon the room, and he saw the Duchess draw a deep breath, "I used to play the violin when I was younger. I love music, but when my uncle became my guardian, he forced me to stop playing. He said it was not proper."

"Of course nothing is proper for that old geezer," she continued with a sense of false mirth, eyeing Damon that quirked his lips upwards. He sensed that she was very accurate on that point.

She wasn't like any other ladies he had seen or heard before. They all talked like a high-breed poodles, and acting in ways that they thought normal people would never be able to comprehend. And here she was, highest of their stature, talking to Damon like she knew him for years, not that he was dirt that got stuck on her shoe. It made him feel comfortable, to comfortable as he had to remember his place and where he was, she was making that issue very much harder. He couldn't be who he really was – snarky, seductive, sarcastic, the three Sses.

"Will you play for me sometime?" She asked, hope evident in her voice.

"If that is what your grace desires," he said in a low voice. It wasn't part of his duties towards her, but he couldn't refuse when it was her sweet voice asking nor wise to ignore if it is the Duchess requesting.

She beamed at him and whispered, "It most certainly is."

They left the house, and Damon was sitting with the driver of the their carriage, exhaling and inhaling deeply, trying to calm his nerves that were on overdrive.

It was just a silly infatuation, attraction. It will go away. It had to, it _really_ had to.

He just needed to find more distraction in the pubs, drink himself pissed beyond oblivion, seduce women and be done with it. He really thought that tactic would work, but it was because of how she continued to be, how she acted, how she treated him, that made it all so much harder. She didn't ignore him, and Damon closed his eyes. It was a disaster.

They arrived after one hour's drive to the countryside in the outskirts of London, where they were meeting up with the Duchess's friends. It was a small mansion, a miniature of what the Duchess herself lived in, but it was still beautiful. He expected it was a house for vacation away from the stinking city that smelled like shit and piss almost everywhere you were.

Damon did not know how long they would be here, but as it was already approaching dusk, he feared this might be an overnight, and that made him anxious. As the carriage reached a halt in front of the house, he jumped down from the carriage and opened the door for the exquisite creature inside it.

Damon offered her his hand, bowing, "you grace." she took it gladly with her own gloved one, and again he felt chills on his lower back as she did, and she offered him a smile as she gracefully stepped down. He responded foolishly with one of his own special smirks.

* * *

Elena smiled at him, and she went to the door. This was one of the Mayor's vacation homes, and she liked this one the best. It wasn't so grandeur, but it gave that more comfy home feeling. Caroline was already there with her husband. So was Dana, Jenna, and Matt was there as well, which made her tense a bit, but she politely greeted. They all moved in the nicely decorated salon with ruby red tapestry and golden fabric couches and chairs, and white carpet that stretched out over the entire room. The grand chandelier in the middle of the room, gave the room a very calm ambience. When Matt notice Damon's presence, his face darkened, so did Damon's, and he was eyeing him cautiously.

"I didn't realize we should have brought the servant people with us, there is plenty already here. Thought this was an evening between people of _stature_." Matt snickered menacingly, nodding his head towards Damon so everyone would look at him.

Elena saw how Damon's shoulders tense, his posture tightened, his mouth was pressed in a thin line, and it looked like he was literally biting his tongue to refrain himself from making a retort. She admired his restraint, and felt the need to jump in.

"At least he knows how to treat a woman properly, and not act like a beast," She snapped back at Matt.

He eyed her suspiciously, "And what is that supposed to mean exactly, Elena?" There was an eery silence settling over the room, and she felt all eyes on her.

"There, there, Matt. We all know you have quite the temper." Caroline teased, jumping to Elena's defense.

"Cheer up, Matt. We are here to finally relax, not to spew arguments." Tyler chipped in cheerfully, slapping his friend heartily on the back.

This averted the tension between Duchess and Mr. Donovan. Elena dared to gaze at Damon as everyone sat down in the couches, happily chatting, that was standing at the entrance of the room. He looked like he was ready to murder someone, and she hated that she couldn't calm him down without everyone wondering what she was doing. As the Mayor's servants brought them wine and cards to play with, they proceeded to try to have fun.

"What did you mean before?" Caroline whispered to Elena, when she was sure the people around them would not hear them.

"What do you mean?" Elena asked quietly as she sipped some wine.

"Don't play stupid with me, Elena. It doesn't suit you." Caroline continued in same hushed tone, sounding more angry.

"Caroline, there is nothing to say." She didn't want her friend to worry about her, and she didn't want to share what happened between her and Matt.

"You have to excuse me and Elena. We need to...powder our noses," Caroline announced to the group that were barely listening to them, and before she knew it, Caroline took her hand firmly and dragged her out of the room and went into another on down the hallway, slamming the door shut. They were in one of the guest rooms, that was barely lit, only one candlestick shining on the bedside table.

"You tell me what happened now!" Caroline demanded.

"You are to intuitive for your own good." Elena sighed.

"I noticed from the moment you and Matt met and how he was commenting on...your personal guard, the tension exploded!"

"Matt was not himself when we were at your ball, Damon intervened from him hurting me."

"Since when do you call him Damon? Is that his name? And what do you mean 'Matt was not himself'?" Caroline was on the border to hysteric as she spewed question after question.

"Caroline, calm down. His name is Damon, and Matt was very vividly making an attempt of marriage...again."

Her friend's expression calmed immediately. She knew that Matt has wanted to marry Elena since she was sixteen, when they had first met. They had gotten along quite well, and it was close that they were going to be engaged but then her parents died, and all feelings she harbored became quickly hollow. He promised he would give her time and over the course of three years he grew more and more impatient.

"Eventually he will learn that it's pointless," she exhaled deeply while smiling reassuringly at Elena.

"Do you have feelings for...Damon?" Caroline cringed out his name.

Elena's eyes widened, "Don't be ridiculous, Caroline!"

"I see how he looks at you, and it's not I-look-at-you-because-I-have-to stare either. And I saw how you looked at him at my ball. You don't even know this man, and more importantly, you can't know him, you can't look at him with your longing doe eyes! You stood up for him because of Matt! You know I don't see him as a servant, and neither do you, but you understand the complications if it gets out that you stand up for him?"

Caroline always spoke what was on her mind of how she perceived a situation, and Elena just lifted her chin, showing more confidence then she felt.

"Caroline-" Elena started, her voice cracking a little.

"I'm your friend Elena, and I'm telling you this because I am your friend. Rumors will spread like a wildfire, and it will get worse, and if your uncle gets to hear it..." Caroline trailed off, pinching her nose bridge.

"I know Caroline, but I don't have feelings for him and neither does he for me. I stood up for him because it was poor behavior on Matt's part, and because I believe in equality! You know this."

"But nobody would care what you believe or think."

"And I don't care what society thinks of me either." Elena fumed at her friend, she knew she was trying to protect and help her, but she didn't need it. First Bonnie and now Caroline! How could they not see this from her perspective? She continued in the same manner.

"If men cheats on their wives with their maids, nobody seems to have a care in the world, but if I, an unmarried woman just stand up too my bodyguard, the world comes to a halt?"

"Elena...I care about you and I know the world is unfair, but we women have each other and we prevail by our charms. And if it would come out _if_-" Caroline articulated the if heavily, "- you two were more he will be hurt by it more then you. Your uncle would would never let you out of his sight until he finally forced you to marry to some rich old bastard!"

"You don't have anything to worry about..." Elena whispered, feeling exhausted by this conversation. She didn't harbor feelings for Damon, why did everyone think she did? Just because she had thought of him and it had made her happy it didn't mean anything. Her body reacted to him in improper manner but she couldn't help that. He had made no qualms on her heart.

"We should get back, I just needed to talk to you, or I would have exploded in there." Caroline smiled at Elena, who returned with one of her own.

When they opened the door, they both saw Damon standing outside, not portraying any emotions in his face, his brows were deeply creased but he gave them a quick bow.

Had he heard what they were arguing about?

"Did you really think I would stab my best friend or something that you felt the need to follow us?" Caroline snapped at Damon, earning a angry glare from Elena, and no reaction from Damon.

"It's in his contract Caroline. Whenever I'm outside the home he is supposed to be near me." Elena pleaded her friend to understand, but she just huffed and went back to the salon.

"Are you alright?" she suddenly asked, feeling stupid for asking him something like that. She shouldn't care about his feelings, but it was her nature to care for people.

"I'm sorry, your grace, if I have made you uncomfortable." Damon bit out, staring into the wall opposite of them. He sounded angry, and Elena felt the need to comfort him. Caroline didn't mean any harm by her words, but she kept hearing what Caroline had said to her and just let out a sigh. Nodding at Damon, she stormed back to the salon, feeling sour for the rest of the evening.

When she went into her bedroom, Damon stood outside her door. One of Caroline's chamber maids helped Elena with heating up the fireplace and lighting a candle on her bedside table, and removing her exterior clothing and corset. When she was just in her underclothes, she got in her beige nightgown before the maid removed the pins and bands in her hair.

"Would you please tell my personal guard, Mr. Salvatore, that he doesn't need to stand outside my room all night? I do not believe I will be attacked tonight by anyone."

"Of course, your grace." The maid politely answered. When she was fully done, she curtseyed to Elena and closed the door.

Elena let out a heavy sigh, and put her head in her hands before heading to bed. Her hands were shaking from exhaustion and she really needed a good night sleep. She was lying on top of the covers for a few minutes until she heard giggles outside her bedroom door and it peaked her interest. She quietly made her way to the door and leaned against it to hear what the maid was chuckling about.

"Oh, you are quite persuasive, Mr. Salvatore." the maid purred. Elena's heart jumped. He was seducing the maid?

"Mhm, call me Damon, pet, so you know what to scream if you let me," his voice was husky, and it reverberated through Elena's spine when she heard him speak like that. This was a side she never thought she would see - well hear, in this case. It felt like she was invading on something very private. And Elena had no experience in what was going on behind her closed doors, and it frightened and excited her. Never having been privy or taught these things, it felt very foreign to her and forbidden for a woman of her stature to even consider or think of it before she had a husband. But she couldn't stop herself from listening – her female curious nature getting the better off her.

"Oh, Damon..." The girl breathed out his name. Elena closed her eyes tightly, her mouth suddenly very dry.

"Do you like it when I kiss you...here?" Elena heard a faint moan, and she had goosebumps crawling all the way up her back, "and here?" Damon's voice continued to go lower and lower in octave, and sounded more passionate.

"Oh, yes, Damon." The girl moaned in between heavy breaths.

"Shh, you've got to be quiet, pet, or you might wake up other people."

"We wouldn't want that!" The maid giggled.

"No, we don't. So why don't you show me where you sleep, and I can awaken things inside you that you never felt before," Damon whispered seductively. The maid was half giggling and half moaning when Elena heard their steps fade, and she started to breathe heavily, her knees going weak. She slid down the door. Her cheeks felt on fire, her heart was beating so fast, and she had goosebumps everywhere, to her utter mortification. She couldn't slow down her breathing, but was clutching her nightgown tightly, feeling tingles as she did.

She involuntarily wished she could feel what that maid felt, feel what Damon's lips and hands could do to her, and she let out a shaky sigh. He always sounded so detached and polite when talking to her, and she got to hear how he really was, at least in part. It had made her curious. She slapped herself mentally for harboring these lusty thoughts. Trying to forget about it, she went to sleep.

**AN: Still like it? Please leave your thoughts :)**


	4. The Attack

_AN: Hi! Here is the fourth installment, and I hope you all like it. Thanks again for all the favs, and alerts and a special thank you to all that reviews the story. Makes me very happy. And a big thank you to my wonderful beta **KaterinaPetrova **for just begin an awesome beta reader!_

On another side note, it's my birthday today, so I decided to drop this off before I'm gone for the day. Perfect birthday gift is reviews, *cough, cough* ^^

_Enjoy!_

* * *

_**29**__**th of May, 1803**_

It had been a little over a month since they had gone to the mansion outside London. Elena didn't dare speak to Damon, and he of course, being the good guard he was, didn't speak to her either apart from greeting her. She was still mortified about how he had made her feel that night at the mansion when seducing that maid. And frankly, Caroline and Bonnie were right. She couldn't treat him like she wanted to, without raising a few eyebrows at least, and if her uncle found out, she didn't even want to think about what would happen. And she would put Damon in a very bad position as well, even if they would never do anything except talk. He didn't deserve that.

He had been with her almost everyday as she was forced to go to events planned by her uncle, some for political business, which required faking happy smiles, and others for finding suitors. None of the prospective suitors interested her, though. She was able to steal a few precious moments when she and Damon had their unspoken staring contests, which made her feel warm and unexplainably happy.

Elena was out in the upper parts of London. She was going to meet up with Caroline to go shopping for clothes. The new fashion from France had arrived, and it was the most exciting thing that ever happened...apparently. She didn't feel her friend's thrill of getting new clothes, but held up her appearances. John also said that it was important for her to keep up with the latest trend as she was the Duchess. Like that would make everyone love her! She really did not suit this lifestyle.

When she got of the carriage, she got a very strange feeling. It was something in the air. It was quiet and people was staring at her. She felt nervous and moved closer to Damon, who was walking behind her. She gave him a worried look, and she knew in an instant she wasn't the only one feeling anxious. He kept darting his eyes everywhere.

"DEATH TO ARISTOCRATS! DEATH TO THE DUCHESS!" The scream came out of nowhere and Elena felt like a mouse trapped by a cat. Damon suddenly grabbed her arm and forced her into his chest. She gasped at the impact, her body betraying her nerves as she felt all the familiar goosebumps crawl on her skin. What she didn't expect was the invasion to her senses by his musky and all too masculine scent. "We need to get you back, now!" He whispered frantically in her ear. She just nodded, trying to see the one that had screamed, it didn't take long.

Suddenly three men were running against them, swords drawn, screaming obscenities at Elena. They were poor, she could tell by their tattered clothes, old swords and how thin they were. Damon let go of her and stepped in front of her, drawing his sword to protect her.

The men stopped as Damon stepped in front of her, looking angry at the man blocking their way.

"Get out of the way, lad. This does not concern you." The tallest one growled.

"You want to kill her, which makes it my business." Damon smirked.

"You are one of us, serving those bastard's whims. Help us make it stop!"

"You must be incredibly stupid if you think killing her will help you in any way."

"It will. It will awaken the aristocrats to act."

"You try to kill her, I will rip your throats out. You can do it the smart way and walk away or we have to resolve to my way which is much more bloody." Damon grinned menacingly, clutching his sword handle tight watching the men restlessly look at him.

"Fuck you, and fuck her!" The tallest one growled and they were racing towards him.

"Get back in the carriage!" Damon yelled at her as the first man attacked him, holding the sword high above his head. Damon easily blocked his attack and countered with a swift strike to the mans chest, and punching him on his cheek at the same time. The man let out a cry of pain, and blood ran through his clothes and down his torso. He fell down, body forward, dead. Elena let out a gasp of terror, feeling paralyzed on the spot.

The next man came in similar fashion, but the other one came to him from the side, and Elena's eyes widened as she realized that Damon didn't see him.

"Damon! Next to you!" she yelled frantically. Damon's eyes flipped to hers and then next to him, her yelling distracting him. He blocked of the attacks from both men, but when one of them saw Elena, he rushed towards her instead. Elena didn't know what to do, she just stood still in her spot, her heart beating like a mad beast, but she couldn't command her body to move.

As the man was about to strike at her, he let out a surprised gasp and his eyes widened as he fell to the ground. As he lay there, dead, she saw that Damon had thrown his sword into the back of the man's head. Elena gasped as she covered her mouth with her hands.

"Bad move!" Damon growled, looking at the body in front of him.

Her body was shaking, and she watched Damon, he looked angry but there was fear in his eyes as the third man that he had ignored to save her approached.

It seemed to happen so slow, almost as if time had stood still as she watched blood pooling languidly on Damon's pristine white shirt.

She screamed his name as she saw him fall to the ground, gasping short pants in pain. The man that stabbed him quickly drew out his sword and looked at Elena with a menacing grin. She saw that Damon was still alive, trying to get up but his arms wouldn't let him.

The driver of her carriage had jumped down and was trying to pull her away into the carriage.

"Your Grace, we need to leave. Please get in the carriage." He said quickly. Elena could only stare at Damon and then at the man in front of her that clearly wanted to kill her. He was walking slowly, chuckling like a maniac as he did. She looked at Damon, she couldn't leave him, she just couldn't, not when he had given his own life to protect hers.

"What a shame to kill someone so beautiful." The man snarled in front of her.

"I fight for equality, I'm a Gilbert." She screamed to the man, trying to plead with him so she could save Damon.

"You are still an aristocrat." The man sneered, and gave her a vicious look, "and we want all of them dead, even with your _noble_ intentions," he chuckled sarcastically.

Elena saw the sword in the other man's head in front of her, and she knew she couldn't fight. She had never been allowed to train in fighting skills, but she would die and so would Damon if she didn't try. Her adrenaline rush was high and she sprinted quickly – even in her big dress, as she pulled out the sword and began racing towards him.

"Oh, little kitten wants to play? I'll play!" The man laughed loudly. With her shaking hands, she tried to keep attention on how he would move the sword, and hopefully she would just get one blow in the right spot. He was walking around her in a circle, like a lion cornering his prey, and then he screamed and launched at her. Elena was terrified and she moved quickly to the side. Seeing her opening, she stabbed the man right through his kneecap. It was an unreal feeling, that she actually physically hurt someone – someone that was part of the people she fought equality for. She never thought she ever would be able to do something like that.

The man let out an agonizing cry and fell to his knees, his hands holding his damaged knee tightly.

Elena dropped the sword, and told her driver to go get their family doctor immediately. He left in a hurry. People in the area had started to gather around the scene of the crime, and she heard the police coming. She let out a sigh she was holding and rushed to Damon, not caring what anyone would say or think.

He was lying on his back, clutching with his hand his left, lower abdomen side, drawing sharp and fast gasps.

"You are going to be alright. The doctor is coming, you will be fine." She whispered reassuringly, seeing the blood pool around him rapidly. She took off her glove and removed Damon's hand, and pushed down the piece of cloth, applying pressure, in hope to stop the bleeding a little. He looked so pale as he stared at her face in wonder, and then his eyes rolled back and he went limp in her arms. She panicked, "no, no, no, no. You can't die!" She frantically panted, her heart twisted in her chest and she felt freezing cold as his movements stilled. She was still applying pressure to his wound, convincing herself that he was not dead. He could not be dead!

_**1th of June, 1803**_

Damon groaned as he slowly blinked his eyes. His vision was blurry and the light streaming in from the windows was hurting his eyes. He couldn't feel his body, and his throat felt like it was burning through his skin, it was so dry. He tried to sit up but he didn't have strength in his arms to carry his weight and it hurt like hell his stomach when he tried to move.

He could see after a few minutes that he was in a wooden dark colored room, and it was daylight since the light still hurt his eyes. He could also tell that he was in a kingsized bed. And when he tried to move his right hand, he felt pressure on it. When he blinked his eyes a few times, he saw a tiny hand, holding his larger one. He was beyond surprised when he saw the sleeping figure, holding his hand. It was her, in a white, classic high fashion dress. She looked so innocent and vulnerable, curled up in the big golden laced armchair. Her hair was hanging loosely across her petite frame and she looked...beautiful. Her posture relaxed and his eyes wondered over her body, fixating on her calm breathing and he could see her chest heaving up and down, giving him a clear view of her cleavage. Damon looked away, unable to look at the temptress besides him.

_She is the Duchess, beyond your reach! _He kept telling himself, not wanting to wake Damon junior up. He wasn't even awake for five minutes, was in pain and all his body wanted was...her. _Damn it! _He had been able to control himself very well the past weeks he had been with her. He even convinced himself he didn't want her anymore, but this simple gesture, that she was her with him, holding his hand while sleeping...speaking of...why was she here, and where was here?

It took a few moments before he remembered what had happened that day. It had seemed so unreal that something like that occurred in the open streets of London, vile scums attacking the Duchess. He would never admit it to her, but he was terrified when he heard that scream, not knowing how many would attack them. He was scared for her, not for himself. She had looked like a rabbit caught in the wolves den when she saw what was going on. It was on instinct he had grabbed her towards him, needing to feel her, and protect her. He didn't regret saving her before himself, he regretted how his body betrayed him so that he wasn't on high alert as he normally was, the concern for her safety clouding his judgment. He had fought in war in Italy, and minor battles in England, but he never felt this scared for someone when he was fighting.

Damon tried to move again but his body wasn't letting him. He felt a small squeeze on his hand, realizing the Duchess was moving in her sleep, letting a very soft and quiet moan slip as she did.

He pretended not to hear her but his body didn't. His blood rushed to his nether regions, and he cursed, hating himself for being so weak and thinking of her, an angel in such manner. He didn't mind thinking the same thoughts about other women, but it was different with her. She was not in the same league as those women, hell – not even on same planet.

The fear, the adrenaline and the overwhelming urge to protect her was intensifying everything he felt. He wanted to touch her. He wanted so many things. Fortunately, she couldn't possibly want anything to do with him.

She moved a bit in her sleep, and he saw her eyes blinking, as she was waking up, and when she looked at his face, she smiled softly at him. She looked extremely tired and he wondered how long she had been in here with him.

"You're awake," she whispered.

He gulped, not knowing if he should speak or not. Seriously, rules be damned! He had almost died, he could certainly be cut some slack for that.

"Takes more then a sword to take me down," he rasped out, his throat hurt like sandpaper going up and down his vocal cords.

She seemed to have noticed and reached for the glass of water that was next to her and gave it to him. He tried to sit up once again but his body just wouldn't cooperate and he collapsed again, groaning in pain.

Then she did something he did not expect and placed the glass to his lips and with her other hand, holding up his head, allowing him to get an easier access as he drank the sweet, cold liquid. Her touch was soothing to his neck. She was close to him, too close, her face a few inches away. This was not good. When he was done she placed the glass back to the table and looked at him intensely.

"I was so worried you wouldn't wake up." Her voice cracked, and he saw tears in her eyes. His stomach clenched when he saw her sad expression. On instinct, he reached for her face, stroking the one tear that fell upon her cheek. Her olive skin was smooth, and his fingers burned with sensation as he caressed her cheek, not letting his hand fall away.

"The Grim reaper hasn't collected me just yet." He half smirked at her, his tone soft.

It was like time stopped around them as they looked in each others eyes, dangerously close to each others face and for the first time his gaze dropped to her half opened mouth. Those perfect, pink, plump lips, he heard her breathing getting heavier and he knew he should stop, but as his hand now was stroking her delicate cheek so gently, he felt her coming closer to him. It was like current, and he just wanted to be one with the wave.

She gazed into his blue eyes with her chocolate ones.

"You saved me," she whispered meekly. His pulse was racing, and his cheeks felt heated.

He smirked at her, "I like living on the edge. Makes life more adventurous," he breathed huskily, feeling the intoxicating want taking control over him.

* * *

It was terror the past few days when Damon had been unconscious. They seemed to have gone by in a blur. The police came quickly to the crime scene, arresting the man that was still alive, and found a distraught Duchess with her dying guardian. Nobody dared to question the close interaction between the two. Caroline had arrived moments after, shocked and appalled that this happened, trying to get Elena off of Damon, she didn't let her. Her sole focus was on him, trying to look for any signs of life.

Eventually the doctor came, and they returned home with him before placing him in bed. The police inspector had been over, asking Elena about the events that happened and she had answered. The Duchess had instructed to John to write a letter to Damon's family, informing them of what happened and that he was taken care off. John was confused when he heard about what happened, but surprisingly he didn't argue when Damon was brought into one of the more unused guest rooms in the lower level of the mansion. And she had been there most of her time, every day until he would wake up, not caring what her uncle had said on the point. She was extremely stubborn that she was to stay because he had saved her life, almost dying in doing so. John seemed to accept this answer – for now at least.

Bonnie had been with her most of the time, not asking her motives, which she was thankful for. She wouldn't bear any more interrogations. Damon had gotten washed and the doctor cleaned his wound before placing a bandage tightly around his wound, and then leaving him bare chested for Elena, who gasped at the marvelous wonder that was his body. And now, he had finally waken up.

Elena was growing rapidly more nervous being alone with him, but eclipsing her fear was an indescribably strong urge to take the chance to speak with him when no one else was around. They weren't talking anymore, they were treading into dangerous territory that would just lead to tragedy. She took a few deep breaths, and tried to repress the irrational want, knowing that it would only get her in trouble. But staring into his blue depths, it just felt right, like it was meant to be. It was a perfect moment, and she wanted to dare to lose herself in wanton. Just once...

Their own little world that felt like serenity was interrupted by a harsh knock on the door. Elena jumped backwards, in shock and was panting heavily. Her body felt was on fire, and she looked at Damon with wide opened eyes, and he looked at her just as shocked as she felt.

She felt a blush creep in to her cheeks yet again; what was wrong with her?

_That was to close,_ the rational part of her brain screamed.

"Come on in," came her shaky voice.

John opened the door and stepped in, arching an eyebrow when he saw that Damon was awake and eyed them both curiously.

"I see you are back in the land of the living," he said to Damon.

"Yes, my lord."

"You saved my niece from a frightful event, and I am ever thankful for that. You have proved yourself reliable, and I ask that you to move into this mansion to make it easier for you to accommodate my niece's needs. Your income will still the same but you will enjoy the comforts that this property has to offer such as food and this bedroom. It's never been used so it's suitable. Of course it doesn't not give you permission to roam free in the household but you can be in the servant section of the house and in the garden when we don't have guests."

It was silent for a moment before Damon quietly forced a smile on his lips.

"Thank you, my lord, that is very kind."

"Your father is coming over in a short moment, along with your brother. They will sign some papers and get it all sorted."

Elena saw that his entire body tensed at the mention of his father, and his jaw clenched. He simply nodded at John.

"Well, Elena, we better leave this poor man alone. He still has to heal." He looked at her niece, with a pointed expression. She also just reserved to nod, not knowing really what to say. As John exited the room, she looked back at Damon that gave her an expression that sucked all air out of her. For once, all he felt was written on his face and it scared her more then anything.

It was in the evening when Damon's father and brother came to the mansion. Elena had yet to meet them but John had already holed them up in his working room, talking about business.

She had to fight this urge, this pull she felt towards Damon. He got under her skin, and she couldn't stop thinking about him or how those strong hands felt on her cheek. How he whispered to her in his velvet voice that made her body tremble.

About thirty minutes later the gentlemen emerged from John's office and as Elena was in the hallway just out of their sight, they could not yet see her.

"I'm pleased to see that my son finally have made some contribution in society. Being her Grace's personal guard has earned us quite the respect." She could only assume this was Damon's father speaking. He sounded so demeaning when speaking of his son, and she couldn't see why.

"I'm surprised as her reputation is only loved by her friends."

"Perhaps that is the case but she is the Duchess, and that means something." The two men chuckled, and Elena felt her anger rising.

"My son here, is an prestigious lawyer and we are getting well known around here. I have yet to find a good match to set him up with. A wealthy and respected lawyer should not just settle for anything."

_The nerve of this man! _Elena was fuming already, and she had not met him yet.

"Father..." came the third voice, sounding embarrassed.

"You have to excuse my son, he is quite timid."

John chuckled and she heard him sigh before answering."It's a generous offer, I'm sure, but I'm afraid that the Duchess will soon be engaged."

Elena's eyes widened at this and heart thumped loudly against her ribcage. Her uncle had _what_? How dare he? He had tried doing this before to her but she always managed to scare said suitor off. She would do the same next time. She would not be engaged to some snob that would ruin her life more then it already was.

"Oh, I had no idea. I have not heard any announcements."

"No, it's a secret for now until everything is settled, but I can assure you that you will be pleasantly surprised." Her uncle had the nerve to sound so pleased with himself. Elena was beyond furious, she was not cattle to just be traded with!

She stepped out of her hiding place, flashed a brilliant smile on her face and she walked up to the three men.

They all stopped with their conversation and eyed her. The elder man next to her uncle must be the father. He was short grey haired man, very tall and similar body built as Damon's but with visibly less muscles. He looked like he was handsome once upon a time, but now he looked so...bitter. She assumed he man next to him must be Damon's brother. Strangely she did not see a lot of resemblances to Damon, except in the physical resemblance in body shape.

"My dear niece, let me introduce to you, Giuseppe and his son, Stefan Salvatore."

"Pleasure, I'm sure." Elena curtseyed while they bowed to her.

"I see the rumors of your beauty was not exaggerated at all, your grace." Stefan said politely while wiggling his eyebrows at her, and Elena did not feel at all the same surge of reactions as she did with his brother.

John looked uncomfortable at the younger Salvatore's attempt to flirt with his niece, and for once she agreed with his sentiments.

"Rumors are always exaggerated, Mr. Salvatore." She replied with a tense smile.

"Stefan!" Giuseppe chided at his son as Stefan continued to stare at her.

He tore his gaze away from her and looked questioningly at his father. "Are we allowed to see my son?" Giuseppe asked John, who just nodded and led them down the narrow hallway leading to Damon's bedroom.

_Damon's bedroom..._

How would she be able to control herself if he would be sleeping in the same house? She just had to calm herself down and remind herself that she can fight her carnal instincts. A part of her wished that his lips would have touched hers, she imagined what they felt like, and reprimanded herself for her awful thinking.

Before her thoughts could drift any farther, her uncle came up beside her, "I think they needed a moment," he explained at her penetrating stare.

"So who are you intending to marry me off to this time, uncle?" The words just poured out of her mouth, not being able to stop herself.

He looked stunned and his eyes narrowed, "Eavesdropping, are we? Quite poor manner."

"Just answer the question!" Elena seethed.

"I'm sure you will be happy with this one, and this time, you won't be able to snake your way out of it, my dear niece."

"All this just to get in control of the family's wealth? How pathetic!"

If possible, Johns eyes narrowed even more and he slowly took a step forward. "Learn your place, girl," he growled, his stare threatening, "you may be a Duchess, but you are still an unmarried woman, and you are nothing without land or your wealth."

"No, but at least I have integrity!" Elena snapped back, knowing she pushed herself over the line, and a harsh slap came across her cheek. She stumbled a bit back by the rough impact and felt her cheek sting, and it hurt to move her jaw. But she held her ground and looked back at John, daring him to do it again.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that, ever again, Elena." John whispered in a furious manner.

"The only reason you became my guardian was to get everything my father had. You will never get it even if you do manage to marry me off one day. My father made sure of it in his will that if I ever get married after he died that all will belong to my son that I would have or already had, and it has already been signed. And you can never get the title since he was granted it, not you. And of course should I die, everything that we have would be inherited by your dear cousin, if I had no heirs. You. Have. Nothing."

John's normal face color changed to deep scarlet tone, as he heard what she just said.

"He married your mother, that's how he got the title, my naive niece," his tone dropped and he seethed to her in a whisper, "And you don't think I learned this? Sadly it was after I already agreed being your guardian, and actually I must thank you for fending of the last suitors you had because you realize once you marry this man, I will have everything and more then I ever wanted, because he can grant me that."

"And what makes you think I will ever agree to such a thing?"

John smirked, and as he stepped forward he breathed in her ear, "Because I can hurt the people you care about. I can do anything to you, and to the ones you love. You have no idea, Elena, of what I can do. But you'll learn. This marriage will happen, and I _will_ make sure it does happen – no matter the cost. Bonnie and Caroline might fall down the stairs and perhaps, I don't know, their necks will snap if you don't."

Elena gasped and took a step back and just stared at her uncle just grew two extra heads. He had never resorted to threatening the people she loved, and that was her weak point.

She wanted to flee from this man, wanting to flee his evil clutches but if he was serious...how could she ever?

When she was about to respond, both Salvatore men had come down the hallway, oblivious to what had happened between Elena and her uncle.

"Thank you again, my lord," Giuseppe bowed to John, "Your grace," he said smoothly to Elena as he gave her a formal bow as well.

Stefan followed the same suite and leaving both relatives in their private war.

Elena didn't speak and gave John one final death glare and walked up the stairs

"Oh, and Elena?" He sing-songed from the foyer.

She stopped in her tracks to look at him, "Do not think me foolish." He gave her a knowing look before he walked off, back to his study. A stunned Elena stayed behind, not knowing just how her world had managed to turn completely upside down in all but one evening.


	5. Recovery

_**AN: Here is chapter five. Hope you enjoy! Thanks again for all the support and a greater thanks for all the reviews and I'm sorry that I didn't have time to answer them this time. Just had it very busy with work and with around three birthdays parties(divorced parents) so figured you would rather want the chapter then me replying :) I do love reviews, they are a great inspiration and a huge source of confidence :) So thank you! **_

_**Now enjoy chapter five, I worked quite hard on Damon in this one. And thanks to my lovely beta KaterinaPetrova for tweaking the chapter and being awesome!**_

* * *

_**29**__**th**__** of June, 1803**_

It had taken Damon around three weeks to fully recover from his wound. The doctor had said he was lucky, because the blade had not gone through any of his vital parts, and with so much blood that came out of the wound, no infections had started either. _He was lucky?_ Damon chuckled at the very thought of him being considered lucky. He was tortured by that almost kiss with Elena, and on top of it, he wasn't allowed to leave the bed for the first two weeks on doctors orders, so what could he do? Nothing, except lay there as his mind was haunted by her her scent, her big doe eyes staring at him with lust, her tender voice. Normally if he would start thinking about her, he went to the tavern when he was off duty to drink and screw until she was out of his head.

Damon hadn't seen the Duchess in the first two weeks. She hadn't payed him a visit since he woke up. It made him of course a bit anxious and he longed to see her, but at the same time he was thankful she hadn't been back. The worst part was that he really did wished he kissed her, because he had longed to feel her lips against his, wanting to taste her, hear the softs moans and it was pure hell.

The last week before he was fully recovered he was allowed to get out of the bed, but he couldn't move around too much for fear he would open the stitches. The Duchess avoided him like he was the plague, not that anyone noticed really, and she had an escort of guards instead when she had been outside these weeks, her uncle refusing her to go out alone after the ordeal with those men in London.

So Damon had focused on training to keep his muscles in shape and it had helped his mind to avoid focusing on more wicked things. And he really needed to be strong if something like this occurred again.

The only good thing, that clearly didn't outweigh the bad possibilities, that came from living at the mansion was that he was finally away from his father. He would miss Stefan a bit, they had always been good brothers, but he could always visit him when his duties were not needed. And he would today have to go to his home to pick up some necessities for his new home.

He strolled carefully down the streets, feeling the shift between the middle-class and the rich as mixture of odor and food hit his nose, seeing more filth down the streets. But it was filled with so much more life, laughter and noise.

He walked to the little home his family had, one of the nicer houses in the area. Both his and Stefan's money being able to afford it. As he stepped inside he saw his father talking to another middle-aged man in the salon, and went to greet them.

"Ah, Damon," his father said affectionally, making Damon arch a very surprised eyebrow in his direction.

"I did not know you would be coming home," his father continued as he walked to his son, embracing him in what could have been seen as a caring hug, but Damon knew better. Hell has to freeze over first if it was just out of love.

"Just to pick up a few things for the mansion," he answered in a monotone.

"Mr. Starr, this is my son." Giuseppe waved to the other man in the room, and he extended his hand to Damon who shook it, "pleasure to meet you, Mr. Salvatore." "Likewise." He had an eery feeling that he was not going to like this conversation. His father seemed to pleased and well, for him that meant bad news normally.

"We were actually talking about you, Damon. Mr. Starr came with a lovely proposition to wed our two oldest children into an union for our families."

_Wed? As in marriage? As in lets-just-commit-suicide-marriage?_ Damon ran these thoughts hastily through his mind feeling a cold chill settle in his abdomen. He did not want to marry, he really didn't. Especially to someone he had never met in his entire life.

"Marriage, father?" Damon asked Giuseppe, appearing impassive.

"You really need to clean out your ears, son. Yes marriage." His father sighed, narrowing his eyes at his son. "My daughter is twenty-two years old, and already a widow. Her husband passed away a year ago, and Mr. Salvatore has been kind enough to welcome us with open arms, to let us in your family." Mr. Starr said politely.

"Isn't Stefan perhaps better suited for this, what I am sure, exquisite proposition?" He half smirked at his father, while staring at him like he was the plague.

"Stefan is a lawyer, Damon." Giuseppe bit out as that would settle it. Stefan was too good for this marriage, but Damon was not because God forbid that his good brother would have to marry in a family that didn't suit his job...

"I'm quite sure you won't be disappointed by my daughter, Mr. Salvatore," the elder man said, probably sensing Damon's feelings on this matter. "She can cook, clean without servant help, and she is beautiful as well as possessing the child bearing capabilities." _Yes, because women should really be graded like this to be pleasant to a man, doesn't matter if they are manipulative, bitchy, just as long they can do the housework and be a child carrier_, Damon grumbled in his head.

"My son knows the importance of this. There is the matter that he lives at the mansion of Duchess Elena Gilbert but his contract does run out by the end of this year. Lord Gilbert believes that she won't need a guard because she will be married and they will not live there anymore." Thankfully both men did not see Damon's reaction when he heard this. He won't be with her after the end of this year? She will be married? To whom? His heart pumped a bit faster for no explainable reason but he quickly tempered it down.

"Then the wedding should take place after that so they can move in together." Mr. Starr said happily, clapping his hands together like a giddy child.

"Indeed, your lovely daughter must visit us at some point when Damon can leave the Gilbert residence and so we can make the engagement official." _I don't have a say in this at all? Now I'm engaged less then five minutes after he told me of the proposition? _He hated his father, and that hatred settled in the marrow of his bones, but Giuseppe just looked pleased, since he would probably get a hefty amount of money from this marriage or something, or he does it to just piss him off.

"I'm sure Andie will be happy to hear the news. And she is looking forward to meeting you, Damon. I must be leaving, business to attend to," Mr. Starr finished. Formal greeting was exchanged and then he was gone.

Damon swirled around to face his father,. "Were you even going to let me make a choice in this...arrangement of yours?" He spit out.

Giuseppe chuckled, "This was a splendid opportunity for our family, of course I would not say no to this."

"So it really doesn't matter to you how I feel about this?" "No. It doesn't. You need to step up and face your responsibilities, Damon. I know Katherine would have been married to you if we never left Italy. Even with everything she did to you." "That was your decision as well. I never had a say in any of that." "You are too old to remain single, son. And since you seem happy to be whoring around, I had to fix up this marriage for you. You should be grateful!"

"What should I be grateful for? You ruining my life? Taking everything away from me?" Damon said angrily, his nostrils flaring. "What do you mean?" Giuseppe was deep scarlet and his fists clenching at his sides.

"I would have thought you could understand such a simple sentence, father. Shall I repeat it in Latin for you? Put my non worthy education to use?"

"You will marry this woman, and that is final!" Giuseppe screamed to Damon. Damon and him had a staring eye contact, until the door opened, and Stefan had come home.

"What's going on?" he asked tentatively to both men who were staring daggers at each others. "Damon is an ungrateful spoiled brat, that's what's going on. Thank God I at least have ONE competent son in this house still."

Even if Damon had heard these words before, one way or another, they still cut like a knife through his heart.

"Perhaps if you were not such a miserable damned fool I would not wish you dead, but I do. I hope you die a horrible death soon, and that I can be there to enjoy every second of it." Damon whispered, silencing his father for once, not believing what he heard from his son. This was enough. Damon let his darker nature out, and he continued, "And you will wish and want my forgiveness then father, and I will laugh and I will mock you, hoping I can crush the little black heart you still have left."

The tension was thick and silent. His father looked like he just punched him in the face, and stole all his money under his nose.

Damon left the salon in quick angry strides, going to his own room and packing all his belongings roughly in a bag lying in his room and he heard from what he could hear his brother walking to his room.

"You know he doesn't mean that," his brother softly said, leaning against the doorframe.

"Seriously?" He asked with sarcasm, "you must be the dumbest brother alive ever. I'm the dick and you are the saint. It's fine with me by the way. I mean, at least I won't be stuck here." He bit out to Stefan, not really meaning the words he said. Of course he wanted his father's approval but he never got it...what was the point of trying to achieve it when every time you tried it felt like your heart got ripped out and stomped upon while he handed a halo to crown his brother's head with.

"It's not fine, otherwise you wouldn't be this angry." Damon let out a short bitter, bark of laughter, "I don't get angry Stefan, that would imply that I _care_."

"You may fool everyone else around you, but not me. I'm your brother, and you always looked after me even with our father being...the way he is."

"Don't speak of things you don't understand." "Don't shut me out, Damon."

"Tell you what, Stefan? You be the goody two-shoes to the maniac down there while I go and drink myself hammered to the death."

Stefan sighed, knowing when Damon retorted to these comments there was no getting through.

It was dark when Damon left the house, ironically he forgot the bag he packed in his anger. he felt furious and he really needed to drink so he went to his favorite tavern in the poorer district of London, hoping Alaric would be there, which would probably be a certain as that man was there almost every evening after his work before going home.

Instead of going to his normal spot he headed directly to the bar and sat on the barstool in front of the bartender, ordering bourbon per usual. It burned like fire down his throat and it felt like his freedom. It was three weeks since he had been able to drink and it felt delicious.

"You seem pissed," a familiar voice said next to him. Damon cocked his head to the side and saw his friend Ric, as he sat down next to him ordering the same as the elder Salvatore.

"Why is everyone determined to make my day more miserable then it already is?" He asked in the thin air, hearing Ric chuckle at his response

"Because it's so much _fun_!" He joked to him, patting him on the back.

"Ha, ha. So not amused." Damon answered while downing his bourbon.

Ric responded, still having his wicked grin in place, "Didn't say it would amuse you."

Damon gave him_ you are so funny_ sarcastic stare, while shaking his head.

"So what happened, bud?" "The pathetic excuse of my father happened." He muttered bitterly while swallowing more of the fire liquid until it was empty and immediately ordered a new one.

Ric made an "Ah" expression and was quickly silent.

"You would think that him being happy for me would be committing a huge sin because it would take the shine off my little baby brother."

"I think your father...doesn't know how to be with you maybe in the same way as Stefan as they share the same interests."

"Yes, because that clearly makes up for all wrong doings."

"So what did he do?"

Damon huffed. "He got me engaged." He downed his second glass in one go.

"How dare he?" Alaric mocked but became became silent instantly by Damon's death glare.

"Maybe I should do something stupid to get out of this." "Upset your father more?" "Tit for tat, and besides being stupid is so much more _fun_ then playing his game." He slurred, the alcohol finally affecting his senses. He ordered his third glass, making Alaric rising his eyebrows.

"Damon..." "What? I'm already a disappointment in his book so I should just...I don't know, live up to his standards." he bit out darkly and drank all of his third glass.

"Maybe you should cut off the drinking for tonight. You already had three shots." "If you cut me off, I swear to God, I will kill you." Damon said threateningly. He wasn't as high tolerant as normal. Not being able to drink for three weeks has that effect he supposed.

"Fine, fine, sorry that I don't want to drag your to drunk ass out of here." Alaric mumbled.

"Oh, I'm sure I can find someone that is more then willing to drag my very _sexy_ ass out of here." Damon responded while eyeing some of the women that were looking at him flirtatiously while getting a fourth drink that he drank.

"You are not God's gift to all women you know."

"No but I am to some and it's a plan for tonight. Is it perfect? No. Is it great beyond belief? Very much." He wiggled his eyebrows while smirking.

"Okay, you have had too much to drink, and as friend that actually cares about your life, you are coming hime with me."

"I'm sure Meredith will be pleased." "She hates you." "The good ones always do." He whispered, thinking of _her_, again. Perhaps she didn't hate him, but it was close enough.

"Did you just compliment my wife?" Alaric chuckled.

"What has the world come to?" he quipped sarcastically back.

Damon's head felt very heavy and he couldn't focus anymore, the alcohol finally settling in. He didn't really know what happened, but Alaric had dragged him out of the tavern, and got him to his house where an angry Meredith yelled at him for being so bloody irresponsible even through her husband's attempts to calm her and he fell asleep on their couch, listening to their screams.

_**30**__**th**__** of June, 1803**_

John still refused to tell Elena who her new suitor was and it was making her insane. God forbid that she should know the man that was to marry her! She had been trying to get information out but either the servants didn't know anything or refused to confirm any rumors that might have been heard.

Bonnie had tried as well but she was just as unsuccessful as Elena had been. At least this had been a distraction from Damon, and what happened between them. She still couldn't believe it, and still thought about that moment everyday, replaying it in her head and it had always ended with them kissing. She missed the tingling in her loins and the warm all over, and she both hated and loved the sensation. She couldn't see him after that, afraid she would push herself over the edge, ruining both their lives if she did.

And she didn't want to say anything that could ruin this position for him either – she had a feeling his father would not approve and John would wonder why she suddenly wouldn't want Damon as her guard as he saved her from those men in the city. And she didn't want to get rid of him because...he made her feel alive, he had awaken feelings inside her she didn't know she possessed of ever having; that had been dormant for all her life. It felt like a heavenly drug.

She was sitting in the garden in the early afternoon with Bonnie next to her, sensing her obvious distress. It was written plainly all over her face. The beautiful weather not calming her what so ever, nor the smooth breeze of the wind.

"What's bothering you?" Bonnie asked not standing the tension.

"So many things, Bonnie. I don't know what to do." Elena suddenly whispered, her voice cracking.

"Is it Damon?" she asked quietly.

"Amongst other things. Promise you won't tell uncle. Promise Bonnie."

"Of course. You know I never would break that trust." "I almost kissed him after he saved me, and I think about him all the time..." She broke out in tears, and Bonnie hugged her tightly to her chest, letting Elena wail all her sorrows in her chest. "I knew something must had happened when...you came back with him. I sensed it, I just didn't want to pressure you."

"He makes me..." Elena choked, not able to finish her sentence, feeling mortified. "Oh, Elena..." Bonnie whispered comfortingly while caressing Elena's hair. "I know I shouldn't. I know it's not right, and I tried to fight it, but all I want to do is to give in..." Bonnie didn't judge her, she just hugged her friend, trying her best to comfort her.

They sat like that for a while, until Elena's sobs subsided and she sadly chuckled, "I'm a mess, aren't I?"

"Never. You are just confused and there is nothing wrong with that." Bonnie smiled at her.

"I'm sorry. I just needed to let it out." "I understand and you never have to apologies for the way you feel. You can't control that." Bonnie reassured her with a squeezing hug.

"I'm so glad to have you. If I told Caroline-"

"-She would probably explode." Bonnie finished giggling making Elena chuckle.

"Damon must think that I'm a coward. I've been avoiding him the best I can but now that he is fully recovered I don't know how to handle it."

"Maybe...you need to set it straight before you do. He can't know what you told me..."

"I know..." Elena said sadly.

"But maybe you should treat him what is expected of a lady of your stature, by ignoring him or treat him like he is below you."

"I can't do that Bonnie. It will rip my soul if I have to lie and be like the rest of the flock. I'm not like them, I do not share their beliefs."

"I know that Elena but something needs to be done if you don't want to fire him either." Elena sighed and looked down at her hands, "I know." She whispered.

* * *

Damon was in the most repulsive mood when he had woken up in the morning with one of the worst headache he ever experienced. He had gotten washed up and ate breakfast at Alaric's home before heading to the bane of his existence – the girl that tormented his thoughts.

When he entered the mansion in the late afternoon, through the servant entrance he was supposed to go to his room and rest, but the steward of the house halted him when he saw Damon entering the building. "Lord Gilbert has been searching for you. He has requested your presence in his study." Damon just nodded and wondered what he had done now to be summoned to John.

As he made his way to his room he came across the Duchess and a maid that was next to her. He had seen this maid before but hadn't expected her to be so close to the Duchess. He was in such foul mood he didn't want to risk hearing her. When she saw him, she stopped dead in her tracks and they both were just caught staring at each others. This was the first time he saw her since that incident and his body was reacting heavily to her presence and he really needed to get out of here. He was the first one to move, and bowed, feeling his head banging at the skull for doing so, "Your grace."

"Mr. Salvatore." She responded in a soft tone and he walked past her, not daring to look at her again, afraid his body would betray him more then it already had. He kept walking, leaving the two women alone.

He knocked on the door to John's study and heard him yelling, "Come in." He did so and closed the door behind him, "You called for me, my lord?" He asked, feeling his false politeness like a bad rash through his throat.

"Ah, yes." John was looking at documents and letters on his desk. And he stood up walking around it and stood in front of Damon giving him a confused stare.

"You don't look well." He said, arching an eyebrow at him.

"Just a rough night." Damon replied.

John made a hmm noise like it was the most curious thing he had heard.

"I wished to see you as you live here now, new rules need to be set. You are not a technically a servant but you do serve the Duchess in a very important manner – especially after what happened in the city, people are curious about you, and whom am I to refuse them?" He chuckled.

"Also my niece seemed to have grown fond of you as she refused to leave your side when you were hurt which I find curious...for what reason would there be for a Duchess to be concerned by...collateral damage?" Damon's heart started to pound ten times faster and it was banging in his head, making him internally groan out of pain, "I do not know, my lord." He answered thickly.

"It's not proper but nobody saw it so no need to make a fuss about it. But it seems my niece trusts you, and you have proven yourself to be trusted," John reached for the paper behind him and read out aloud to Damon: "If people of high stature have questions for you, you may answer. You may greet them as well as before and you can engage in conversations – in the most polite manner of course and never think yourself their equals. The same goes for my niece. I cannot have a mute bodyguard when you have peaked the interest of those for the time being. Do not abuse this gift given to you." "Is that all, my lord?" Damon asked.

"There is one more matter. My niece seems quite distant, and I'm afraid that someone has captured her interest and since she refuses to talk to me, I want you to be my eyes and ears. This someone can't be good otherwise she would have mentioned it to me...or it is her pleasure of course to disobey me. You are to report to me if you notice someone that garners her affections. I want to know about it immediately."

Damon had to laugh out loud in his head. He just got promoted to a spy! He wondered though if there was truth to what John just had said. Had a secret someone won her affections? Not her suitor to be it seems...He suddenly felt very angry by the thought and he would find out who it was. It could not be him of course since she had avoided him for the last three weeks and he would not be foolish to consider the possibility that it could be him. He fell in that trap before with Katherine that played him. She was the first woman he truly fell for and it turned out she was keeping him a play toy while being with other men. He had wanted to marry her and asked for his fathers permission for it, which had been granted before he changed his mind to move to England which he should have been grateful for. His father never knew who Katherine really was, and he would somehow blame it on Damon like he did with everything else.

"May I ask why, my lord?" "Well, if you find there is a 'someone,' I want you to kill him. It can ruin what I have planned for my niece and any obstacles for obtaining it..." he broke his quill on the desk to demonstrate his intentions and smirked at Damon. "Well you see the point." "I'm not an assassin." Damon cocked his eyebrow questionably, feeling all color from his face drain away.

John just laughed lightly, "You need sometimes to kill to achieve the greater good. You would get money of course for this service but then again...there might not be an issue either. But do we have an understanding?"

"Of course, my lord."

"Good. I heard from your father when he was here by the way, that you have talent for music, is that correct?" Damon rolled his eyes in his mind. His father praised his musical skills here? Maybe he realized it had more meaning in England. Why would he even mention it? "Yes, I like to play the piano, my lord." "Excellent. It seems that our musician that was supposed to come over for the evening is sick and I'm in need of a replacement."

"You want me to play?"

"Yes, that is not a problem is it? I have a few friends over, and music is a lovely distraction while playing cards and having a social evening." "It's not a problem. You just caught me by surprise, my lord." John chuckled, "That is all, Damon. You may leave."

Damon headed to his room and exhaled deeply when he reached the safe comforts of his own room and ran his fingers through his black hair. He didn't have time to think about anything as a knock interrupted his thoughts.

He opened the door and to his surprise there she was. "May I come in?" She asked timidly, looking around her for prying eyes. He opened the door fully, "Of course, your grace." He thanked John that he could now at least being able to interact in conversation with her.

She entered the room and she looked extremely nervous as she turned around to look at him after he closed his door and just stared at her with an impassive gaze. "I just wanted to apologize for my behavior for that...day." He didn't need clarification to know what day she meant. She wanted to apologize? What for? It was below her to even consider apologizing to him.

"I was out of line, and I'm sorry that my rude behavior almost caused a disaster." _ Disaster? _Damon was on the edge. After the other night with his father, the conversation with Alaric, he could not keep his feelings in control and felt like he was about to burst. All his emotions that he kept in check, everything he felt towards her were dangerously bubbling in his veins and he had to clench his fists tightly to appear impassive.

"You have nothing to apologize for, your grace."

She was fiddling with her hands nervously, and he could see the blush creeping up her cheeks and her breathing quickened.

"I do. It was not respectable and I never should had let..." her voice faded as she struggled for the right words.

Damon's mouth was pressed into a thin line and she just quickly forced a smile to her lips, chuckling anxiously, "I'm sorry. I should not be here." and she tried going for the door, but Damon grabbed her wrist and turned her to face him, inches away from her face. He couldn't control what he felt, couldn't control his body and certainly not control what he was about to say. She gasped in surprise and stared at him in the eyes and it made him go weak in the knees.

"Why do you feel the need to apologize for that? Live with it, own it." He whispered making her breath hitch. He was walking slowly against her backing her up against the wall next to the door, still holding a firm but gentle grip on her wrist. He could practically feel her trembling like a leaf against him, but she hadn't moved or slapped him away either. So perhaps there was no other man other then John's immense ability to be paranoid. She certainly would have if someone had won her affections.

"You say it could be a disaster, but you do not know of what you speak off. I could make you feel things you never felt before." His lips were an inch from her and he felt her breath tickling them to just inch closer so they would be in union but he didn't, just having them dance dangerously close to hers, making her breathe quicker, but she didn't say anything, her eyes frantically looking between his eyes and lips.

"All you have to do...is ask." He finished very slowly, drawing her divine fragrance through his nose. She tried to reply but her voice was clogged in her throat. He had pushed himself far over the line and she squirmed out of his grasp and hurried out the door quickly not saying anything.

Damon leaned his forehead against the wooden wall in front of him where she just stood a few seconds ago, still smelling her scent in the air corrupting any sane thoughts. _Damn it, damn him_, damn his father for making him so furious that he felt the need to lash out on the one person that did not deserve it.


	6. Evening at the Mansion

_AN: Here we go! This is the sixth chapter and I'm getting more and more excited about the story since more stuff will happen. I just hope you are as excited as I am!_

_Huge thanks for the alerts, favorites and a big hug to everyone that takes time to review, especially the ones that do it every chapter! I'm still in awe when I get a review that people take time to review this story and it makes my heart flip with joy._

_And a last thank you to my lovely beta, **KaterinaPetrova** for being awesome to put up with my insecurities at times and for ridding my chapters of grammatical mistakes!_

_Hope you enjoy!_

* * *

_**30th of June, 1803**_

Evening came and the mansion was filled with fine dressed people and servants chattering. Damon was just quietly walking past them in order to find one person he needed to apologize to. If she told John what happened, told anyone what he did, he would be in trouble and he liked living, thinking back to the conversation he shared with said uncle about what would happen to the 'someone' that tried to garner her affections.

There was no excuse for what he said or what he provoked when standing near her, but he had such a horrible day before and the conversation with John didn't really brighten the mood. Then, she tried to apologize for something that never should have happened in the first place, he had to let the real Damon come out and play. The real Damon had terrified her.

Damon earned some curious peaks and glances from people when he was walking smoothly past everyone chatting. John had been right, normally people of higher stature didn't look at him other than to admire his handsome exterior, but that was about it.

He recognized a few of the people. He saw the blonde, Caroline. If he remember correctly her husband was the mayor which probably meant that the sleazy advisor was here as well.

Damon saw her then, chatting with a group of women and men, and they were all laughing at something she said. Her smile brightened up the room, and she looked stunning in her gown. It was white with exquisite embroidery. It had short sleeves, and a high waist that hugged her upper body perfectly, with a square neckline that showed her womanly assets in a discreet manner. She wore white gloves and her hair was twisted in an extravagant bun, leaving just a few strands of curls hanging loose to frame her delicate face. He swallowed thickly, remaining mesmerized by her beauty, and he slowly made his way closer to her, hoping she would see him so he could apologize to her discreetly before John found out about what he had done.

As on queue, her eyes wandered the room and landed on him, and her smile quickly dissipated from her lips. He tried to gesture as cautiously as he could to so she would know he wanted to talk to her. She exhaled deeply and put on a false smile for the group. Excusing herself, she made her way tentatively to him.

He bowed to her, and stepped just a little closer so he was certain she could hear his low voice.

"I'm sorry."

She knew what he meant. Damon never was any good with apologizing, it was not in his nature. She could see that this proved to be difficult as well.

She just looked at him with her big brown eyes making him churn in his lower parts. Her intense gaze was excruciating and she simply nodded to him in acknowledgment as he offered her one of his special smirks. He bowed again grasping her delicate hand, kissing her soft hand.

"Your Grace." He still felt those sparks when he touched her, and the all to familiar traitorous tingle that ran up his back and had to fight the urge to look at her plump lips.

She smiled hesitantly at him.

"May I ask you something, your Grace?"

The fear in her eyes were evident. Was she truly scared that he would try to say or do something foolish in front of all these people, and he just pressed on so she would know his intentions.

"It would be best if you uncle remained in the dark about this."

"It would never fall in me to tell him." She responded quietly.

"Thank you. I know I don't have the right to ask..."

She held up her hand to stop him from making apologies, her eye wavering a little and her voice was strained when she continued.

"It's fine Mr. Salvatore."

And then she walked away from him, leaving Damon standing still on the spot. He saw her talking to Caroline and they were both immersed in their discussion. He still hated his body for reacting so strongly to her, clearly thinking it would had disappeared by now, and he sighed mentally.

"Mr. Salvatore." Damon turned to the source of the voice and found John Gilbert nodding his head gesturing for him to come to him.

"Do start playing the piano. I think I will soon go insane if I have to listen to these women chattering like birds for a moment longer." Damon nodded and gave a quick formal bow as he walked with steady steps to the grande masterpiece at the side of the room. He sat down and started to play, closing his eyes, letting his fingers carry on the beautiful tones that filled the room. The chattering subsided as everyone turned to watch him play. They were probably very surprised that he even had the skill to play an instrument.

When he opened his eyes, he found _her_ standing next to Caroline, listening intensely to him. She motivated him to play more passionately as he strung the tones underneath his hands, imagining the wonderful tangents to be her body and he was the master playing with it beautifully. Minutes passed like seconds and the song reached its finished, earning applauds from the room.

"Splendid, Mr. Salvatore." John beamed loudly for everyone to hear, "Not a tune I'm familiar with. Who is the great composer of this masterpiece?"

Damon half smirked, "It's something I wrote while living in Italy, my lord."

A few silent gasps of surprise and murmurs passed through the room and John grinned.

"Well it seems my replacement excels in other things then just saving a damsel in distress." This earned chuckles throughout the crowd, and Damon dared to look at Elena who glared at John, while Caroline was holding her arm tightly.

"How dare you?" Elena suddenly whispered, and everybody fell quiet.

"Two men died, one is about to be hanged and you treat it all like a joke."

"Nobody forced them to attack you, dear Duchess."

"They are hungry and desperate!"

There was a moment of heavy silence and John chuckled.

"See what happens when you mix women with wine and politics?" Everyone burst into laughter.

Elena shook her head in disappointment and her mouth was pressed in a thin line as she rushed out of the room, not that anyone noticed except for Caroline. Everyone else seemed to be enthralled by chattering once again. He saw the blonde, frustrated by the situation, walking to her husband. He knew this was bothering her, it was clear. She seemed to hate being there before this conversation took place, and he had a fighting pull to just go to her.

* * *

Elena sprinted into the garden. She was upset and angry. How could her uncle disregard human life so easily, like it meant nothing? She could not breathe, her dress was clenching her ribs together, the corset was squishing her core. She just wanted to get away from the chattering, the people that were just like her uncle, and most of all, _him_. Everything he had done, how he had made her body ache for him. Her act had been satisfactory, trying to remain cool when he did apologize but when her uncle mentioned that day when poor men had died, she couldn't contain anything anymore. Her anger mixing with her traitorous bodily desires. Nobody in there could never understand. She heard steps carefully walking behind her and she closed her eyes.

She could feel his presence vibrating through her core and even without looking she knew he was behind her. It was radiating in waves and she swallowed thickly, trying to wet her suddenly dried mouth.

Her shoulders tensed, and she sighed internally; what could he possibly want? And here out of all places...

He must have sensed her distress, "Do I frighten you that much?" he spoke in a whisper but it was enough for her to hear him.

"No," Her voice held no conviction, much to her dismay. She slowly turned around and steeled herself to look him in the eye. He was at a respectful distance, not wanting to be in her private space. His hands were held behind his back and his gaze intoxicated her, and those cerulean eyes caught hers like a fox. She felt her cheeks burning, and her shoulders tensed immediately.

"You left in quite a hurry, and being the good guard I am I wanted to see how you were, Your Grace."

"I do not believe I will get attacked in my own home, Mr. Salvatore."

His lips quivered into a half-hearted smirk, "You never know what might be lurking in the dark."

There was silence. She just sighed and he didn't know if he should stay or leave.

Her lower lip was trembling.

"My uncle is just..." She shook her head while quivering her lips into a frustrated smile, "I would love to finish that sentence but I fear I might get whipped for it."

Damon continued, easing her discomfort and she chuckled at him, starting to feel comfortable in his presence that he dared walking closer to her, sensing her nerves were sending of sparks as he closed in.

"You hate these gatherings don't you?" He asked her quietly.

"Am I that transparent?" She smiled at him, quirking one of her delicate eyebrows at him.

Damon gave her his trademark smirk and replied in a low voice, "You are easy to read...sometimes."

Elena tilted her head to the side, "So tell me, what else can you see since I'm easy to read?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" He whispered softly, standing in front of her, the close proximity drugging both their nerves and the ache to to just touch him became excruciating. Memories of him testing her limits in his room flashed through her mind, when he tried to coax her carnal instincts to act, and god, she wanted to. It took all of her power to run out of his room, because her body clearly wanted something else and now she felt the same waves corrupting every sense in her as she got lost in his eyes and he was about to continue before...

"Elena! There you-" Caroline had finally followed her friend out in the garden and when she saw the company she froze. Damon's shoulders tensed and his sinful grin that was in place quickly faded into an impassive stare. Caroline suspiciously looked between the two of them as Damon respectfully backed away from the Duchess.

"What's going on?" She asked slowly.

"Nothing, Caroline, as usual." Elena briskly responded.

Damon silently snorted, and bowed to the two ladies and walked inside again, sensing his presence was clearly unwanted.

"Elena-" Caroline started warningly, but Elena cut her off sharply, "Do not even start with me."

"So you two have private audience now? Why is he even talking to you?"

Elena scoffed and widened her eyes at her friend in disbelief, "Do you even hear yourself Caroline?"

"And do you even see what you are doing?" She shot back at the brunette.

"I'm not doing-"

"Don't, Elena! God!" Caroline exclaimed, her voice hysteric, "Don't say you are not doing anything when you clearly are doing _something_! You are attracted to him and you can't admit it to yourself!"

"I'm not," Elena quipped disbelievingly. Caroline just shook her head, her mouth pressed into a thin line, "So what is going on then? Enlighten me, please!"

"Nothing." Elena stiffly responded.

"Nothing?" Caroline's cocked one of her eyebrows when her eyes were screaming _I-don't-believe you._

"Nothing." Elena repeated, looking way more calm then she felt.

"You are unbelievable. Admit you are attracted to him and you can actually do something about it before it consumes you!" Caroline walked back in the party, leaving Elena with a whirlwind of emotions to sort through.

Just as Caroline walked into the party, Matt came out. Elena laughed mentally, this day will never end will it?

He was smiling hesitantly and Elena backed away from him but curtseyed to him.

"What do you want, Matt?"

"I want to apologize for my past behavior when we last met, and at Caroline's ball. I was acting, forgive me for saying, like a dick to you."

Elena continued to stare at him in disbelief, and Matt sighed, running his hand through his hair in an attempt to ease his nerves.

"I still love you, Elena. Always have, and seeing you makes it hard since you have pushed me away since..." Elena swallowed thickly, not wanting to think about her parents.

"I'm sorry, Matt. But I don't feel that way. The death of my parents changed things, changed me. I'm not the same girl I was before."

Matt sadly smiled. "I figured you would say something like that, but I still owe you an apology. I was not acting like I should have acted and it's embarrassing."

"Apology accepted, granted that you don't do anything else to jeopardize it."

"I would not dare to, my dear Duchess." He whispered fondly, and she returned with a friendly smile of her own.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur for Elena as she kept trying and listening to conversations of fashion with women, drinking wine just to manage through each one of them. John kept shooting her angry glances, probably worried she would blurt out something else. She wouldn't, it didn't serve any use as clearly demonstrated. As more guests started to leave, the more relaxed she started to feel. She kept hearing what Caroline said. It could not be true, he was just mysterious and it was new and that of course captured her interest. It didn't mean she was attracted...did it?

When everyone was finally gone she went up to her chambers, Bonnie was already waiting to undress her. The fire was roaring in the fireplace, giving the room the peaceful crackling noise that she always adored.

Elena shook her head against Bonnie that spoke volumes that she didn't possess any strength to talk and she smiled at Elena and stood behind her, lifting her garments off swiftly before working on the laces of the corset. But the door was rudely opened and John Gilbert stood in the doorway looking at Bonnie with fury,

"Get out!" he fumed.

Bonnie looked at Elena who just stared, shocked at her uncle and the intrusion in her room.

"My lord, she is not decent-"

"I don't give a FUCK!" He cursed loudly, stunning both women in silence. She rarely heard John curse and it frightened her when he was in such foul mood.

"Get out or I will throw you out." He threatened.

"It's okay, Bonnie. Just go." Elena reassured her friend with a smile, not feeling fine at all.

Bonnie looked like she was about to argue but she gave her a determined stare that made her go.

John slammed the door shut behind him when Bonnie left and walked in angry strides towards Elena and slapped her with his hand, across the cheek with such force she fell to the side, onto the cold floor, holding her numb cheek with her hand.

"How dare you try to undermine my authority?!" He seethed at Elena.

"Undermine? I'm your superior in case you forgotten uncle." She smirked back at him, lying on the ground, feeling the painful sting on her cheek burning like needles.

He dragged her up and held her by her upper arms, and she stared him right in the eyes.

"Does it make you feel powerful to hit a woman? Do your worst, I'm not afraid of you." She whispered with venom laced in her voice, her eyes showing steel determination to not show fear.

"You are nothing! You are just something I need to gain wealth." He spit back at her.

He let her go and she stood with trembling knees in front of him, the shock of the slap settling in her core, shaking her body in aftershock.

"You try to talk back at me again, try to make a fool out of me again, you will regret it." He whispered furiously at her, and grabbed her chin, forcing Elena against the wall. He hmmed when he saw the aftermath on her cheek, "You can not go out for a few days it seems. You will not put that abhorring makeup on your face, besides of course the powder to cover it. Don't need to make your reputation worse then it already is," he let his grip fall just as harsh and invaded her space as his came in contact and breathed in her ear, his voice laced with a sugary coating, "You smell so sweet, Elena. But if you were sweeter I wouldn't have to hit you to make you listen."

It felt vile having her uncle almost pressed against her like this.

Elena was shaking. She was staring at her uncle with utter disgust as he offered her a final smirk before he walked out of the room without looking back. Elena finally let herself just give in to her trembling body and tears fell down her cheeks. Bonnie had rushed back in and hugged her close to her, just comforting her. She grabbed her chin and lifted her cheek in her view.

"The bastard!" she whispered, seeing a bruise form from John's hard knuckles on her cheek.

"I hate him, Bonnie...I really hate him." She whispered, when crying into Bonnie's arms.

"I know sweetie, I know. I hate him to," Bonnie stroke her hair and squeezed her tighter to her, "Come on, let's get you to bed."

_**1th of July, 1803**_

In the early afternoon, Damon was sitting in his favorite tavern, not really drinking or trying to seduce anyone. He was mostly thinking. He had crossed the limits, twice now. She was making it more and more impossible to contain himself and it was...frightening how little control he had over himself in her presence when it was something he usually excelled at.

Females of any kind were quite possibly the most devious and manipulative creatures ever created, Damon thought, and it seemed that males were designed to be, inarguably, the most pathetic half-wits when it came to feminine wiles anyway, and no matter how much he wished to deny it, Damon knew that he was not immune to such a curse.

He had always been trained and disciplined with his behavior, but a mere moment in a room with her, especially alone made him a weak sod, completely driven by his urges, and that petrified him. His self control was an essential part of him, but his brain might as well be spattered against the wall for all the good it was doing right now. Since he couldn't damned well stop thinking about her, or halt his desire to be near her, hear her soft siren voice, or her bloody smile that made him react like a teenage boy.

He felt like the most pathetic fool in the whole world, and he was planning to drink it away, but he couldn't muster up the strength to have alcohol influence him. Besides he needed to be back at the manor in the late evening for when John was going to leave for a business trip and it might be good not to behave or smell like a drunk then.

Damon was building up the courage to go home to pick up the bag he forgotten during his fury at home. He didn't want to see his father, but he had no choice in the matter if he would be home. He really hoped he was with Stefan at the company.

When he did come home, mustering up the courage after a few hours in the tavern, he only saw servants. The two they had, anyway, and he let out a sigh of relief realizing Giuseppe was not home. He was surprised to say the least that his room was intact the way it was when he left in such a hurry.

"So the black sheep returns?" Damon closed his eyes and pinched his nose-bridge, hearing the voice of his brother.

"I thought you were with father at the company."

"He is, I was going to pick up a few documents I forgot at home."

"And you are still ever the golden boy?" Damon asked sarcastically.

Stefan let our a dispassionate laugh, "After everything we've been together, you are still going to retort to sarcasm?"

"What can I say, Stefan? You bring out the most lovely abilities I have."

"How is the Duchess?" Stefan suddenly asked, eyeing his brother for a reaction and Damon froze for a second and smirked, "Why does that matter to you?" he bit out to Stefan, turning his back against him.

"Can't I ask?"

"You never ask, you imply, and you dirt around but you don't ask something without a motive, so what is it?"

"She is beautiful, and you are well, _you_..." He crinkled his nose.

"Just spit it out, brother. Don't want to you to act like a child wanting a puppy for christmas."

"You haven't...I mean," Stefan ruffled through his hair, sighing while Damon narrowed his eyes having his smirk in place, "What, Stefan?" he sing-songed.

Stefan mumbled something not audible, "Didn't quite catch that." Damon grinned.

"Never mind." Stefan sighed.

"Stop with the doom and gloom, brother. I'm not as frail as you, I think I can handle what you are about to say."

Stefan's cheeks were bright red, and he didn't look him in the eyes, "Well, you never missed the opportunity to bed a girl when you have the chance."

Damon looked incredulously at his brother, "Are you serious, brother? You think me that much of a bastard?"

"I think only that because I know of your experience."

"Even if I tried, even if I hated my life enough to go after a whim to be hanged afterwards, do you really think that she, the Duchess, would ever go for someone like me?"

"I suppose not. She deserves better than you."

"Ouch! That hurt my heart." Damon clapped his chest in mocking attempt of feigned hurt.

"You don't have a heart."

"Snide does not suit you, brother. That's my color, not yours."

"But you do care for her, it seems, otherwise you would not react like this." Stefan cocked one of his eyebrows at Damon, looking very curious at him.

"I care for her well being because that is my job."

"It's more then that." Stefan pointed out.

"Nope," Damon shook his head, popping the p, smirking at his baby brother, "It's really not."

His heart was going at million miles per second, but if it was something he excelled at it was to remain impassive, and not showing what he felt. He knew, of course, he felt more for her then he cared to admit, more then he wanted to but it was imperative that he never voice or showed it aloud.

He found his bag scattered on the floor next to his bed and picked it up.

"Got what I came for." He quirked his lips into a false smile. "I will see you around little brother."

"Damon...Father asked me to give you something for when you came back. It's in his office."

"What? A knife to kill myself with and piece of paper to go with it?"

"Might have been his first thought but I think you will appreciate it more then that." Stefan joked and left Damon standing in his room while he heard Stefan going to his father's office. He was back mere moments after and handed him- Damon's eyes widened when he realized what it was. His father said he burnt it.

It was his old notebook for writing music in, and he couldn't contain his hands from stop shaking when Stefan handed it to him. It was a piece of his old memories and he opened it and stroke the parchment, seeing his old scribbles and compositions still intact. "He added more pages for you to write more whenever you have time in the mansion. Maybe Lord Gilbert can feel gracious enough to let you use the piano in the salon or do you have one in the serving quarters?"

"Perhaps," Damon breathed, all the memories crashing against him like hard cold waves of when he wrote, how he felt when he wrote music. It was so many emotions striking through his core and he was happy. He hadn't seen a piano in the serving quarter of the house, didn't think John thrived into putting such luxury with the staff.

"I thought father burned this, he said he did." He was breathless as he turned page after page.

"Perhaps you mean more to him then you think." Stefan softly whispered.

"He lied to hurt me about this, that it took me to say I would enjoy his death to give it back. It doesn't make make him righteous."

"Do you think you will ever be able to forgive him?"

Damon arched his eyebrows, and chuckled sinfully. "I don't do forgiveness Stefan. And he doesn't do well in the forgiving committee, so it suits both of us fine."

"Damon..." Stefan heavily sighed.

"Brother, lets's be serious for a second." He narrowed his eyes playfully and his voice dropped an octave. "He's repeatedly fallen of the delusional wagon that he thinks it's fine to insult his son to please himself, so no, Stefan. I will never forgive him. And I say this sincerely..." He turned to his brother and had a malicious glint in his eyes, "...I hope he dies a painful death."

With that Damon turned with his bag and notebook, leaving his brother standing in the doorframe of his room.


	7. You named it after me?

_**AN: Sorry for taking such a long time for this chapter. But I guess it was worth the wait. A Huge thank you to my brilliant beta KaterinaPetrova and for the response to this story and I really hope I won't disappoint either with the coming chapters. A big hug goes out to those that takes their time to review and hope you will continue to do so, and of course thanks to those that alert and favorite as well. I really hope you will like this chapter as it was one of the more intense chapter I've ever written.**_

* * *

_**1th of July, 1803**_

Damon arrived just before dusk in the mansion, placing his belongings on the bed, and tried to find John Gilbert. That fact that he now had his notebook made him ecstatic, and he longed to play the piano more than ever before. He made a mental note to ask John for permission to play it when he wasn't needed on Duchess duty.

He found John getting ready to leave for his trip in the foyer, his carriage ready to whisk him off and the servants buzzing around, making sure everything was perfect. He cleared his throat, announcing his arrival. John turned his head and he grinned at him.

"Damon, you arrive just in time." He said, spreading his arms wide while his valet brushed his attire to make him formidably ready.

"Yes, my lord."

"I will be gone for around three days and I do not want my niece to leave the grounds of the mansion. I already informed the staff not to let her out so I'm informing you of the same rule."

"Yes, my lord."

"Was there something else?" He asked, eyeing Damon.

"I was wondering if I could ask you something, my lord?"

"Speak up. I don't have much time left."

"May I use the piano when my services are not needed, unless it is crude of me to ask?" John seemed to ponder about it, "You may as long it doesn't disturb anyone. If you have any more questions for after I leave you can take it up with the steward. I must take my leave."

"And not a moment to soon." Her beautiful voice rang through the foyer and both John and Damon looked up to the staircase seeing her and her maid, Bonnie, was it? As beautiful she was in her gown, something seemed very off, her posture, her eyes were different. Something was definitely wrong. He could see it clearly.

"I'm sure you will miss me terribly." John teased in a humorless tone.

"I'm sure I won't." she snapped back, putting a cheekily false smile on her lips.

John's eyes narrowed and he stiffened, "I will be back soon, my dear."

"Have a safe trip my lord." Damon bowed formidably.

He nodded in acknowledgment to him and went out to the carriage and left the house. Damon turned after the servants went about their own work and looked up on the staircase, but she was already gone. Damon went to his room and sat down on his bed, taking up his notebook and as he thought of her, a small smile graced his lips. He grabbed a quill on his desk, and started once again for the first time in years a new composition.

She became his muse as he thought through his music. He could hear every tone clearly in his head as he printed them onto paper, and her beautiful face, that lush raven hair framing it, her aphrodisiac voice humming to him, putting him in reverie as he wrote note after note.

* * *

Elena couldn't stand being there. She rushed out in the garden, unable to take being in the prison that was her home. She told Bonnie she wanted to be alone, and she of course listened. It was a hot night, with slight wind caressing the little bare skin she had exposed. That her uncle was leaving was an immense relief, even if it for only three days, she would be finally be able to breathe. Her right cheek was swollen and shallowly bruised but it was easy to cover up unless you were looking at her face closely. And _he_ was there and Elena just couldn't deal with it either. She couldn't bear the feelings her body craved out of her, the torment she had to go through to every time he was near, but in the same time he was also the only thing that shut her of from her dull world.

He was her drug from reality and the radiating waves that went through her every time he talked to her made her feel...There was a physical attraction there that was getting undeniably stronger and more irresistible, and it made her want to hate him, she wanted to hate him to cover up the reality of what she truly had begun to feel for him. But she couldn't, she could never hate him for something she could not control. He could see through her cool demeanor and it scared her easily.

She knew John had told the servants not to let her out while he was gone, and as much as she loathed and resented him for it she would not risk the people that worked for her uncle to take the consequences of her actions. She wanted to rebel and just run away.

Elena didn't know how long she sat there, out in the garden chair but it must have been more then a hour, and it was very dark outside.

"Your grace..."

She closed her eyes, exhaled deeply and slowly stood up, still not facing him, but she could hear him being close. It prickled her neck, and she turned around with a hesitant smile.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, but your lady's maid got worried so she asked me to get you back inside."

"Bonnie does like to fret over things prematurely."

"She is only worried about you, your grace."

"Well, thank you, Mr. Salvatore. I think I will head inside to avoid any heart attacks from my poor friend."

He tilted his head, grinning at her with that special glint in his eyes, "What is bothering you? Your grace, if I may ask?" He said, in mock defense with his arms softly waving in front of his chest, making her chuckle and dip her head to the side, "What makes you think something is wrong, Mr. Salvatore?" she asked, looking him straight in the eyes, with a special smile of her own.

He chuckled with a slight twitch to the corner of his mouth, "I don't think you sit out here because of the weather." He stepped closer to her, and his brow furrowed when he looked at her face and she quickly turned her head, trying to hide the bruise from him but the damage was already done.

"Who did that to you?" His voice growled, and she was taken aback by the hostility and anger in his voice. His face was contorted in fury and disgust.

"I was clumsy and fell in my room." The lie poured out of her mouth, but her voice was trembling so heavily, he didn't believe her.

He did something she did not expect, and gently gripped her chin, making her feel that burning ache in her body to lean into his hand, wanting him to cup her cheek fully. He tilted her damaged chin into his view.

"This does not look like a bruise that comes from a simple trip." His voice was menacing but it was not directed at her and he let his hand drop from her, and she felt to her dismay the loss of the contact more then she should. His eyebrows were still contracted and his penetrating eyes were searching hers and she let him, and she gasped because of the intimacy of the contact. It was raw of emotion; anger, protectiveness and something else she could not place in the light of the dark.

"Who did this to you?" He asked again, with more determination.

"You can't protect me from everything, Mr. Salvatore." She whispered softly to him, making him clench his jaw and his eyes seemed to try to bore into her very soul.

"Did... Lord Gilbert do this?" He asked, his voice hesitant and disbelieving but evident in fury.

Her breathing hitched and she looked everywhere but him, but her posture gave it away, and his mouth was pressed into a thin line and his shoulders were tense.

"As I said, you can't protect me from everything. I'm tougher then I look though." She half joked trying to ease his discomfort.

"I'm hired to protect you..." He whispered in defeat.

"From outsiders." She finished for him.

He shook his head and he tried to smile at her, but it was forced, "If I can't protect you in your own home-"

She didn't let him finish and cut him off, "You have done more than anyone could have asked for. Or have you already forgotten?" She tried to reassure him, but he didn't accept it.

"You can't go up against him..." She continued, searching his crystal blue eyes, wanting to get lost in the depth of them.

"I want to rip his insides apart because he did that to you." He whispered, his voice laced with hate and venom, and paced so he stood mere inches away from her.

"You do take your position seriously."

He looked at her and he looked at her with an expression she hadn't seen before and it made her stomach clench, and her heart burn with ache. He looked so vulnerable and caring, and she swallowed the lump building in her throat thickly, "I do." He said, his tone filled with undeniable protectiveness.

There was silence after that, and they both got lost into their own world. She couldn't stop looking at him, his handsome face, his beautiful haunting eyes and those lips that her eyes seemed more fascinated more by than anything. She seemed to on her own accord draw her face against him like she did that day in his room, and all she could hear was the heavy, trembling breathing from both of them.

"If I ask...what you wanted me to ask when we were in your room, would you do it?" She asked, her voice shaking with a mixture of fear and wanting.

"We shouldn't." He whispered against her face, his breath tickling her very dry mouth to inch closer to finally fulfill them in the blissful union she longed for.

"No, but I can't seem to stop myself, can I?" She chuckled mirthlessly making him flash a strained smile that did not reflect what he felt in his blue orbs.

His eyes closed and with a low voice he said with a hint of regret, not that she noticed, "You really should head back inside, your grace. It's getting cold and if you would fall ill, I will have Bonnie on me like a fly."

"Can't have that." She said with false happiness, the cold feel of rejection settling deep into the marrow of her bones.

_**2nd of July, 1803**_

Damon could barely sleep last night. He tossed and turned and her words consumed his every thought. He was sweaty and his sheets were ruined by all the turning, and kept thinking and replaying what happened over and over again.

It killed him to break the moment they had, because no matter how much he wanted to finally feel her lips, taste her, he couldn't. And she had looked so hurt, it screamed in the depths of her eyes, and he wanted to comfort her and tell her why...Damon really didn't know how he would survive with his sanity intact being her guard even if his services would not be needed after December.

There was a knock on his door and he hastily got out of the bed, putting on his dark maroon breachers, white tunic and black coat over it, "Come in."

The steward of the house entered his room and held a letter in his hand, "A letter from your father arrived, Mr. Salvatore." He frowned a the letter like it was the plague and took it hesitantly, and mumbled a thank you. The steward left, and Damon just looked at the letter. He clicked his tongue and placed it in his pocket, not in the mood to hear what a disappointment he was, or that he had to meet his fiancé, which he really, _really_ didn't want to – he did not want to marry someone especially if it was someone his father would approve of. That could not mean good for him.

Damon sighed and decided to get washed, and when he was done and had eaten breakfast in the servant kitchen he went back to his room, draining his soul like a sodding poet, out into the composition he wrote about her – he had gotten rudely interrupted by Bonnie storming in his room last night and he could not finish it even when he got back too confused by her, _"can't seem to stop myself..."_ He had been there, and he had to fight it every time he was near her, with a few slips even.

He decided to play the piano as his other services were not needed and the Duchess had no company in the home, he figured it would be safe enough. He tentatively walked into the grand salon, smiling when he saw the piano. He wanted to try the new piece of music he had written for her, stroking the name of the composition, making him sigh exasperatedly.

He sat down on the stool, placing the paper in front of him and started to play. He thought of her, his muse. It was a sad song, it was how he felt. This was his way of releasing what he was feeling without anyone knowing. They would just make the assumption of him being a good musician, but on the deeper level he cascaded everything his soul was feeling.

And this is how he felt about the unattainable, the devious attraction, the pheromone that he despised and loved, the way she carved into his very being and not even knowing about it, the way she destroyed his sanity, the intoxicating drug that made him want to be with her even more but never could. So the song was sad, angry and passionate.

* * *

Elena was sitting in her chambers with Bonnie, combing through her dark curls while humming softly a tune her mother taught her when she was young. Her bruise had lessened, not as much swollen but the marks were still there, so her maid covered it lightly with powder. Bonnie was smiling at her through the mirror, "You seem distracted." She pointed out, raising one of her eyebrows at Elena, making her softly scoff. "I'm not."

Bonnie made a hmm noise and furrowed her brow, "Did something happen when I asked Damon to come get you?" Elena breathed heavily and averted her gaze from Bonnie.

"I'm here for you, Elena, you know you can talk to me," she whispered when sensing Elena was getting upset. She tensed and bit her lower lip.

"I don't know what I'm doing..." her voice cracked and she put her face in her hands.

"So it has something to do with Damon?" Bonnie prodded, and she could feel the judgement coming off it. She knew Bonnie just wanted to protect her, and to not care about Damon like she did.

"When does it not have something to do with him?" She asked cheekily back.

"I don't want to talk about it Bonnie...I really don't." she sighed and put her hands away, steeling her exterior.

Bonnie solemnly nodded and she helped Elena get dressed in her gown for the day, a beautiful coral colored dress with half long sleeves and fairly open neckline. Then she heard the piano...They both turned their heads to the door, listening to the intense tune playing. It was beautiful, and bitter, and Elena couldn't stop listening to it.

"Seems like John was gracious to one of you before he left." Bonnie mumbled, they both knew who was playing. He was very talented in the art of music, and she closed her eyes, intently listening.

Bonnie braided her hair and let it fall down graciously over her back. Since she was basically under house-arrest, she loved having her hair a bit more free.

"Seems we are done, your grace." Bonnie curtseyed.

"Thank you, Bonnie..." She softly replied and heard her leaving the room, probably to head to the servant quarters.

She kept listening to the music and she couldn't fight the rational part at her brain, that screamed at her to not go down there, and she went down to the salon, and heard the music getting louder as she neared the room where he was. She knew she would breach the wall that she built up for when she was around him, but the past two and a half months has been excruciating for her, and the bittersweet release was behind the door where she stood, with her hand on the wooden material and leaned her head against it and exhaled deeply before opening the door.

Damon was to immersed in his music, he didn't hear her coming in and closing the door, and he was so handsome with his concentrated expression and closed eyes. She didn't want for him to notice her, and just wanted to listen to the alluring music. He was truly bewitching with his raven hair, majestic face. She could truly get lost, and spend her entire day just looking at him.

His tunes became softer and more slow, and he opened his eyes and found her with a smile and he looked stunned. He quickly stood up from the stool and bowed at her, and quickly grabbed his notes and hid them behind his back, which peaked her interest.

"Your grace," he said politely.

"You don't have to stop playing on my accord. I rather enjoy it." She whispered.

"Something that you composed I guess?" He nodded, watching her with a guarded expression, remaining impassive and she suddenly felt stupid. He probably didn't harbor any feelings for her other then what was his duty, and she felt idiotic for even considering that he would. She had no idea how his life was outside this house. Maybe he already is involved with someone else, that she hadn't thought of that sooner really proved her naivety. Her cheeks flamed up and she put up a facade of mirth as she chuckled.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I just found myself drawn to your music."

He tilted his head and one corner of his mouth twitched into a smile, "You haven't, your grace." He had returned to the stoic bodyguard that only answered her questions.

"Remember when I asked if you could play for me?" She suddenly asked.

"I do." He answered. There was no passion in his voice, nothing of that velvety tone that called to her. But she still remained, making more of a fool out of herself, what could that mean?

"Would you please?" She asked as she sat down in one of the couches, and she could see him twitch in his posture and when he held his notebook in front of him, she could see him clenching it hard.

"Of course..." He sat down on the stool, and played a different tune then what she heard when walking in on him. It was still as marvelous as the previous, but she liked the one he had been playing. It felt more emotional, more raw of waves of sadness and happiness, if that made any sense.

The song ended and the room fell into a thick atmosphere, "If you will excuse me, your grace. I will take my leave." Damon said quickly as he rose from the stool, and the grip on his book was turning his knuckles white.

Elena stood up to and walked up next to him, "I made you uncomfortable," she stated, walking in front of him.

He smirked, "It would take more to get me uncomfortable, your grace," he smoothly said.

"You seem to hug that notebook of yours." He tensed immediately by her words, and replied, "I thought I had lost it before, I'm just careful that I won't make that mistake again."

"May I see it?" If possible he stiffened even more and looked to the side, his mouth opening slightly and his brow furrowed, "I don't think you would be interested. It's just old scribblings."

"But I am." She said firmly, she could still read notes, from her experience with violin, and she was curious in his work.

He exhaled deeply, "It's not a wise idea." He looked at her. He was unarmored in his expression, something so fragile about him. She could see he was in pain, maybe not psychically, but something was hurting.

She curiously arched her eyebrows at him, and very hesitantly he gave it to her, pressing his mouth in thin line.

She smiled reassuringly at him, and opened the pages, looking through all his compositions, a bigger grin placing on her lips when he saw the names and notes, and she almost lost her breath when she reached to what peaked her interest the most – the one she had overheard him playing. He seemed to notice on what composition she gasped at, and he closed his eyes.

"You named it after me?" She breathed searching his face. He opened his eyes and there was pain all written over his face. Her previous fears was gone, and she could feel his agony in his writing. This beautiful, sad piece was because of her, and it made her feel braver. He must feel something for her to.

"Told you it wasn't a wise idea." He whispered with restraint. She gave back the notebook, smiled at him and walked closer to him, licking her lips, exhaling deeply.

"Why do you make me feel..." she stopped herself and looked in her blue eyes sensing distress and curiosity in those depths, feeling her heart pounding with furiousity she could hear it ringing in her ears, as she now crossed the line.

"I never experienced what I'm feeling like when I'm with you," she finished, swallowing the lump in her throat. They were close again, and he didn't move away. There was mixture of feelings visible on his face – the impassive mask gone and replaced with confusion, fear and...passion.

"Damon..." she whispered his name for the first time directly to him in his presence and that seem to spur him in action.

"You don't know me," he warned her, his hard gaze focusing on her, but it didn't scare her off. His pupils were dilated and he was so stiff as to fight his body to not do anything rash. She however felt her entire body throbbing, needing, wanting him and she said fiercely; her voice thick with lust.

"Then show me." Desire coursed through her, mirroring the desire in his eyes even if he tried to cover it, and her words were all it took. He was so much taller then her, she found herself raising her chin and tilting her head back. Time stood still. When Elena would have broken eye contact, he bent down. Her eyes fluttered as she felt his soft lips upon her own and his warm strong hands cupped her cheeks. She was shocked to the core and the jolts in her body exploded to finally feel the sensation she had been craving for so long. She knew if she kissed him back she would be branded a harlot by the outside world, but she couldn't care less. Those people clearly have not felt the consuming desire she did. His lips felt wonderful against hers, and she kissed him back, melting perfectly against his. She had never been kissed, only a soft pecks by Matt but never like this. This was all absorbing, and it felt so powerful, and she never thought she could feel like this. She had no experience whereas Damon probably had a lot, but she let her body steer her, not her brain and it had not seemed to disappointed him.

The kiss had started soft and gentle. It didn't remain so, as Damon's arms slid around her, pulling her closer to him, closing the distance between them. He nipped at her bottom lip, until she gasped and allowed entry for his tongue to slide in and twine with hers. He tasted something that was intrinsically Damon, and she finally got to taste him after so long, finally feeling his body against hers. Her heart was thundering with no intention to slow down, and her breath quickened, but she didn't care. All she felt and wanted to think about was him, how he tasted, how his body felt so amazing against hers, and how his skillful hands caressed her back and the nape of her neck, having that wonderful feeling of goosebumps crawling up her skin.

The shaking in her legs was replaced by tingling which suffused the rest of her body. She found herself, putting her arms around his neck to prevent herself from falling down. He let out a soft growl in approval against her lips and hugged her closer to him, he broke their kiss for a few seconds, leaning his damp forehead against hers, allowing them both to breathe, but not for long. His one hand cupped her face, and he kissed her lips, only to let it travel across her cheek, kissing her bruise so softly and to her temple. They were soothing and tender kisses. Feathering light touches across her skin. And back to her lips, delivering another tingling blow to her heart. It was breath taking, the way he kissed her. She could feel everything spinning around her.

His arms slid down to her waist and tightened. The feelings rushing over her was so intoxicating. She tried saying something, but she it was if she had forgotten how to speak, she could manage a whimper. Her brain refused to function. All she felt was him, all she smelled was him, all she wanted...was him, and she couldn't breathe. Everything she was not supposed to feel, taught not to feel by her uncle, had all come crashing upon the surface. His kisses were passionate, intense and without mercy. He had moved them, not that she really noticed, until her back hit the wall and let out a gasp in his mouth.

She let her hands explore his body, relishing in the feel how his muscles felt under his clothes and hugged his back to her, not wanting to miss a part of him. There was a small voice inside her head telling her that this was a very unwise move and that she should stop it, but it was drowned in the clamoring of voices that desperately wanted the caress, needed it. And she kissed him back with much more fervor then she thought she had in her.

There was a loud gasp and a clank behind them.

They both whirled around to see a pair of big, chocolate, horrified eyes in a face curtained by black tresses.

_Oh, no, Bonnie!_

The raven haired woman closed her mouth, shot them a look of pure loathing, and turned on her heel and left. Elena looked down to see the drink tray that had fallen to the floor before she ventured a glance at Damon. He looked frozen in place, his eyes cold and distant as if what they had done had no effect on him whatsoever.

"I'll talk to her, don't worry," she said in a desperate stutter, and hurried out the room.


	8. Prince Charming

_**AN: Wow, the response for the last chapter was amazing, I love you guys! I hope you will be as excited now because, Elena will meet her fiancee, (and guess who that will be?!)in this chapter, *dundundun* Lots of drama and jealousy will ensue, wink wink. And I manage to post this fast because your reviews really gave me a huge boost for the last chapter and well my amazing beta KaterinaPetrova worked through this chapter **_**_quickly as well so here it is._**

_**Enjoy and review, pretty please? :)**_

* * *

_**2**__**nd**__** of July, 1803**_

Damon slammed the door to his room and dragged a shaking hand through his hair, but it didn't calm him down. He needed an outlet for his stupidity and fury, but couldn't destroy anything in the room as the furniture was not his. He threw his notebook against the bookcase and sat down on the edge of the bed, placing his elbows on his knees, and started to massage his temples. A lot of things had happened today, most of it was hard to believe. Even for him. He had kissed her, he actually kissed her and it had been...more then he ever could imagine or that he had experienced.

And it had been the most stupid thing he had ever done in his entire miserable life, but it had felt so right, and she had kissed him back with such reverence and desire, he got completely lost and wanted nothing more then to be there in that moment with her. Then Bonnie walked in and ruined any possibility of ever being happy with the Duchess. As if he could ever be happy with her...it was of course not possible, not ever. But that moment of bliss was stronger then what he ever felt before – even with Katherine it had not been like that – and he desperately wanted to feel it again, as foolish as it was. Elena had looked so shocked when Bonnie walked in with her red cheeks and swollen lips and had run up after Bonnie, probably to try to keep her quiet.

When he pulled his coat off, he noticed that the letter that his father sent him fell out on the ground and like a rude poke to his ribs, woke him up from his kiss with the Duchess.

He ripped the envelope roughly open. Might as well get it over it with and read it:

_Damon,_

_I request your presence in our home on Friday the 6th of July, in the evening if possible for Lord Gilbert. Your fiancée and her father Mr. Starr will be there to make the engagement official._

_Sincerely,_

_Your Father._

Damon ripped the letter apart and threw it in his roaring fireplace. On top of everything else he had to meet his father and a girl he had no desire to know whatsoever. But it would be worse if he didn't show up as well, so he might play by his father's rules for the time being. Maybe he could scare of the girl off before they could announce their engagement. He grumbled for a few minutes before his door was forcibly opened. He whipped his head around quickly and froze in place. She was standing there, still fresh from their encounter, and he could see that she was clearly distressed. She closed the door behind her and bit her lower lip. Clasping her hands together, she gazed at him with sad eyes.

"She won't tell anyone, I promise you won't be in trouble." Her voice was barely a whisper.

"I'm already in it." He responded in the same fashion, interlocking her eyes with his. He could never forget how their kiss had felt, and his mind kept wandering to thoughts about what else he wanted to do with her. He just could not stop himself.

"I'm sorry, I should not have pushed you. I take full blame."

"Don't be sorry for it, unless you regret it." He stepped closer to her and she backed away from him, making him arch an eyebrow, asking with remorse.

"Do you regret it?"

It was silent then as she looked to her side, focusing on the fireplace and not at him.

"I don't, and I should feel ashamed of my actions. Do not think me apathetic," she answered, lifting her chin high.

"Then don't be sorry for it. Live with it, own it." He turned his head away, not bearing the sight of her.

"But it can't happen again," she continued, her voice oddly thick, and he flashed a painful smirk, obvious to her.

"Of course not, your grace." He could still feel her lips against his, her sweet taste branded forever in his head, and his mouth was tickling with remembrance. And Damon found himself fighting a losing battle of trying to not let himself be affected by her, to not let himself be hurt by her rejection. He had gotten one moment of peace and it had ended before it even started. He heard the door close again and with closed eyes he knew that she had gone.

_**4**__**th**__** of July, 1803**_

The house was filled with servants buzzing around in preparation for Lord Gilbert's return. Damon held no feelings towards the man, but when he found out that he had struck her, all the respect for him had disappeared. Of course he was powerless to do anything about it or mention it but it didn't stop the hatred building up inside him every time he saw or heard anything associated with him – except the Duchess of course. He never referred to her by name except of course when it came to his music, it would be... stupid and much too personal. That was something he could not afford if he wanted his sanity intact.

He had not seen her since she had been in his room, and he didn't pursue her either, no matter how much he wanted to. She was so different from any other woman he had ever met, and the worst part was that he could not be himself with her at all and she had no idea who he was.

Damon was standing in the foyer next to the line of servants, and Elena was standing on the opposite side, refusing eye contact with him, as he on his own accord could not stop himself from staring at her.

_Get a grip!_

He couldn't get a grip. Once the dam was breached, the flow only got worse.

The door opened and an extremely happy John Gilbert walked in, his eyes glinting with giddiness. Formalities were exchanged and he requested to see the Duchess in his study after everything was unpacked and done.

Elena wondered what she should expect from her meeting. But one thing she had learned after John became her guardian was that – if he is happy, then she would be the opposite. The way he was so excited did not bode well for her. She had no idea about the nature of the affairs he had been off on.

Later in the evening she was summoned to the study where John was waiting for her. She was standing close to the door, holding the handle firmly as a way to steady herself. She despised the man in front of her and after what he did to her in her room, she had passed the limit to ever forgive him. But she would not cave, or be afraid. It was not the Gilbert way.

"Ah, Elena. I'm sure you are excited about the news I'm about to bring?" He asked, a malicious smile spreading across his lips.

"You are deathly ill?" She chipped sarcastically and his smile disappeared immediately.

"I would have thought our last encounter had taught you some manners."

"I have manners, they just don't count around you." His eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched but then he chuckled.

"If you are done with your silly behavior, let me share the news as they do greatly impact you." His smile grew wider, seeing a curious eyebrow rise up on the Duchess.

"From tomorrow it will be official news that you are engaged to the crown prince of England, Klaus Mikaelson."

It felt like a stone had been dropped on Elena's head. She could not have heard correctly. The crown prince?

The same one whose father who was the German prince that had married the English princess? The same man she had met three years ago, right before her parent's death, that already then seemed to want to be with her? She had had no interest in him at all then, when she had first met him. Of course he was handsome, but back then she had wanted to see how it would progress with Matt. Of course her parents had wondered a bit about her decision, but they let her choose then. Otherwise she would have probably already married the crown prince, since it seemed what he wanted, with the letters he sent her and the looks he flashed her at the same ball. The letters stopped when she was eighteen and she thought he had finally lost interest. Perhaps it wasn't so, she thought with dread.

"Well girl, aren't you happy? You will be a princess!" John clasped his hands together, and looked completely ecstatic.

"You cannot be serious." She whispered, "Oh, but I am, Elena. And you can't run away this time. It will be official by tomorrow and we are going there the next week, and you will stay there so people can see you together and by December you will marry."

"How can the royal family even agree to marry off their oldest son to me? It makes no sense."

"You are beautiful, and the rumors reached the prince, and well, he believes them after seeing a few portraits of you. He is very excited to make your acquaintance, seeing that you have not lost your touch since those years ago. Also, you are the only Duchess remaining in England so you should be happy that he hasn't married a foreigner."

"Like the queen did?" She snapped back furiously, hating her uncle's perception of what a foreigner meant. Damon was one, and he was...one of the best men she had ever met. She slapped herself mentally, willing herself not to think about him, not wanting to admit she thought of him almost every waking hour and sometimes in her dreams. Those lips had burned against her, and like a wound from a burn they had stayed, reminding her of the sweet, intoxicating ruse.

"I'm not going to marry someone I have not even met for more then a day!" She exclaimed furiously.

He just smirked at her, "Oh but you will. This is no simple count, or earl asking for your hand. This is the crown prince, the one that will inherit the throne. You will become his princess," he walked slowly, with warning and venom as he paced carefully in front of her, "And you will become queen when the prince becomes King, or God help me I will make your life miserable, and you will be caged here forever. I will make sure all your friends die horrible, painful, mysterious deaths and I'll get away with it. After all, who would believe you over me?" He finished, his voice dropping a few pitches as he stood right in front of her. She held her chin high though, not allowing him to invoke fear in her.

He leaned dangerously close again, making Elena clench her fists together and close her eyes, and she tried to help her labored breathing so she could stop trembling. She felt him smell her hair and he softly traced his finger across her cheek, making her want to retch and a bone freezing chill settled in her stomach. He sighed with content and kept tracing his finger across her collarbone almost dipping it close between her breasts;

"And then my dear, _I_ will marry you if you destroy what I worked for, and you know I can. Believe me, you will have a life of misery waiting for you that not even your precious bodyguard can protect you from. You will have my heir and then your father's silly attempt to protect you will be for naught as the heir will be of my blood. So what is the choice my dear, sweet Elena?" He bit the last parts out with such false loving tone, gripping her chin hard.

"You despicable bastard! I rather die!" She let out in a shaky whisper, staring defiantly in his eyes, wanting to kill him with her eyes.

He tsked at her like a parent would to a disobedient child.

"Such poor manners." and leaned against her face. When she knew what he was about to do, not wanting his touch, or mouth anywhere near her, she slapped him hard across the cheek, making him lose his balance and stumble backwards one step.

"Don't you dare come close to me like that ever again."

"Or what, Elena?" He laughed menacingly.

She had no response to that, "If you marry the prince, I won't." He sneered at her, and he grabbed her wrist hard, "And try to hit me again, you will know just a little bit more how I can infect pain on you." He whispered and falsely smiled at her.

"You may go, we are leaving in seven days in the morning."

There was a knock on the door and John let out a scoff while heading behind the desk, "Come in."

The door opened slowly, and Damon came in, looking at her, confused she was there for a moment before regaining the mask to conceal his emotions. Her heart fluttered, and she swallowed and didn't dare to look at him, "Your grace; My lord." He bowed to both of them.

"Damon, to what do I owe this appearance?" John asked, not looking up from his desk, oblivious to the tension that passed between his niece and her guard.

"I wanted to ask permission to be allowed to leave on the 6th for a family gathering." John cocked his eyebrow, looking somewhat surprised, "For what reason?" He inquired, making Damon furrow his brow and he darted a look at Elena, a remorse one which she couldn't decipher. He sighed and continued, "My father wishes to announce my engagement to the daughter of Mr. Starr, if you know him." Her heart stopped beating when she heard this. He was engaged? But they- She felt cold sweat on her hands and her forehead. How could they have done what they did if he knew he was engaged? She suddenly could not hear anymore, could not see anymore, everything was just buzzing around her, not making sense. Her heart was speeding up and her stomach knotted over. She tried to remain her composure but it was hard.

John let out a chuckle, not noticing Elena's sudden reaction to the news, "There seem to be many engagements going on at the moment. How long would you be gone?"

"Only for the evening, my lord." There was underlying hatred in Damon's voice but it seemed her uncle as obvious that he knew that he hurt her, but she was amazed how he kept his calm.

"Very well. My niece needs her rest before we make our way to the royal palace which you will attend to as well of course. It gives a good image, to see how well we protect our darling Duchess." John drawled, and Damon cocked his eyebrows in confusion but didn't ask.

"Thank you, my lord." He muttered quietly, and with one last glance towards her, he exited. Elena stood still, unable to command her body to move, but when John stared at her she sprinted out of his room and up to hers, letting her shaking body drop to the ground. She couldn't believe what happened, and she had no way out of it. John made sure she wouldn't have. If she refused, she basically would sign the deaths of Caroline and Bonnie and John would be the one she married. It was a fate worse then death. And he was serious about it.

Elena let out shaky breaths and tried to calm herself down. And now with the news of Damon's engagement as well just came as blade twisting her heart, killing her. She hated it, she hated that he inflicted these feelings from her. She would avoid him and it would be for the best. She would meet the prince and be lovely. She would put up the act that she would be excited and happy. At least she would be freed of John and then of Damon.

_**6**__**th**__** of July, 1803**_

Damon was sitting at the table in his father's house, with his brother, father, Mr. Starr and of course the girl he was doomed to marry. It had surprised him how beautiful she was, and when they had been introduced she had been sweet and he could tell that she had a kind heart. Unfortunately, he could also tell that he would never be able to love her. He didn't feel anything when he kissed her hand, seeing her smile, nothing...and it quickly made him hollow, knowing he had to spend his life with her. Love was a foreign concept and it was never a reason to get married. He usually was not one for sentiments, but some resemblance to love would be at least something – and it was thanks to _her _he felt this way. He didn't even care about the fact he would not be able to live the way he had, basically being with anyone he could be with. His father had proudly announced their engagement just before dinner started, and everyone seemed somewhat happy about it except him.

"So I hear you are the bodyguard for Elena Gilbert, the Duchess?" Andie asked curiously, whom was seated next to him. He did not want to talk about her to this woman and settled for a short nod.

"Is it exciting?" She prodded, nagging him to end, and he started to feel annoyed for no reason. She was probably only curious.

"At times." He said, taking a bite of the chicken they had for dinner this night.

"I'm happy my father found someone so suitable for me. It is seldom that a woman of our class can re-marry a second time."

He wished he could return the sentiment, but he started to feel trapped against his wishes and he let the words pour out, "No offense, Andie, I'm sure you are a _lovely_ woman, but I do not share the view of my father that wants me to marry." Her eyes widened and looked suddenly solemn as she returned to her food.

"So, Damon, how does the Duchess fare?" His father asked, taking a sip out of his wine. A flash of them kissing passed before his eyes and he cursed himself in the head, "She is fine, I suppose." He bit out.

"She must be ecstatic, marrying the crown prince. Quite the catch."

Damon clenched his fork and forced a smile about to respond but Andie cut in, "I heard it yesterday, it's great news." She said.

"Why is it great news?" Damon asked with a hint of anger, regretting as the words slipped out, causing everyone to look at him with confusion. He had enough with her engagement, even she did seem happy about it or she put on an extremely good act about it.

"A marriage is always great news, especially between a Duchess and the crown prince. No better way to unite the country." His father continued, eyeing Damon suspiciously.

And Stefan just had to put in the final blow, also looking at his brother weirdly, "And I bet they will have a lot of children." Damon stared with a _I-will-kill-you_ look, and dropped his fork forcibly on the plate, the clatter sounding in echoes in the room, "Excuse me."

He ran up to his old room, slamming the door behind him. He shouldn't have acted like that, not storming off either, what will they think if they hadn't suspected something by now? He just lost control of himself and he never lost control of himself unless she was in the same bloody room as him. He lashed out at the bookcase, sending it tumbling down with a loud crash to the floor, panting heavily and run his hand through his hair and hit his fist against the wall, the pain did not defuse what his body was feeling.

Jealousy and anger were coursing through his hot veins. After that kiss, she was part of everything he did, how he felt and he hated the influence she had on him, hating how he could not stay impassive when just others were talking about her. A few minutes passed and his door was opened again and his father was walking in the room, glaring furiously at his son. He closed the door and grabbed Damon with such force he did not have time to react, and pushed him against the wall; "Are you in love with her?" He whispered, his voice angry. Damon knew who he meant, it was quite clear.

Damon struggled against him but his father would not budge, "ARE YOU IN LOVE WITH HER?" He screamed so loudly, it was ringing in Damon's ears.

He smirked, but his eyes gave it away and his father gasped loudly and pushed him harshly against the wall with another blow, making Damon lose his composure. He refused to answer the question but his father drove him to the edge and he loved seeing him writhe a bit. Besides, his father would never admit that his son ever would defile the Duchess. His father looked abashed and whispered, his voice shaking;

"Do you know what they will do to you, what will happen to you if you are branded her lover?"

"Don't tell me you actually _care_ about what happens to me, father." Damon drawled menacingly, starting to struggle again, his father almost giving way.

"Nothing you feel for her is real, Damon. Nothing! It can't be. You will be killed!" He froze in place and stared his father in the eyes, with such determination it would be called bravery or idiocy.

"Then let me be killed!" The realization hitting him hard knowing the intent of his words. He wondered for a split second if he meant it or if he just wanted to hurt Giuseppe. His father looked as shocked as he, himself felt. He dropped his arms from Damon, shaking his head.

"Nobody can know, and if you leave her services it will only arouse suspicion. You cannot care for her, Damon. Not like that. I did not raise you to be weak!" It actually sounded for a moment that his father cared for him, but he knew better.

"No, you didn't really raise me at all, father." He bit out.

"You will tell this to no one else. Do you hear me?" His father asked frantically.

He rolled his eyes at his father, "No, I won't sign my certain death sentence just yet."

He glared at his son that he was the most awful thing that ever existed, "All I have from you Damon is disappointment, don't fail me yet again."

It felt like a blade hitting his lungs, and he lashed out, fuming, "If all I am is disappointment, why shouldn't I?" He wouldn't of course, but seeing his father worm like this was probably the only entertainment he would ever get.

His father pressed his mouth together, his face pale, "Just leave. I will make an excuse, but leave, and let the maids clean up your mess." His face was clear with disgust as he eyed the room.

"With pleasure." He sneered and stormed off, not saying a goodbye to anyone.

_**11**__**th**__** of July, 1803**_

Elena woke up, the light hitting her eyes as it streamed through the curtains, with a throbbing headache. She slowly sat up and massaged her sore temples. There was a knock on the door and Bonnie entered and curtseyed as Elena was sitting on the side of her bed.

The atmosphere felt thick and Bonnie had been very cautious in the last couple of days, making sure she was not alone to spend time with certain raven haired man. She had let her, it was the wise choice. She did not want to see him. It was silly of course but it worked. They had not spoken to one another since that day, and it would be best to keep it that way no matter how much she wanted to talk to him, be with him, feel the rush of all unexplainable emotions. Her body felt uncontrollable when near him and it hurt like a knife twisting in her gut.

Damon was like poison that dabbed his way into her entire existence. He was going to be married, probably be very happy with the lucky woman that was going to be his wife, and she...was going to be glad as well. At least in pretense and that's all that mattered in the eyes of society. She hadn't been in need of his services as she now avoided being in need of them as she had not left the house. Caroline and Tyler had visited to extend their gratulations about the engagement and Caroline had for once not prodded her about Damon, thinking that Elena was beyond giddiness to marry the crown prince.

Bonnie helped her get clean and washed, and helped he put on the dress she would wear for when she met the royal family. It was a white one with exquisite embroidery, with a beige corset, and puffy arms with lace and ribbons. Her hair pulled in a loose side bun, letting her curls work across her frame. And there was a silly little white hat and gloves to with it.

She had eaten breakfast with her uncle, avoiding his gaze or talk like the plague, hating him with every fibre of her being. They left shortly after that to go to the royal castle. She being in the carriage with Bonnie and Damon was seated the next to the driver, having to be on the same as she was. John was in the carriage before them with the luggage and his valet. Elena was feeling nervous, and the heat waves rushing like waves over her core was making her have cold feet and hands. She tried to breathe normally but knowing that you were headed to someone you would marry that you never met did not really help her calm down. Bonnie squeezed her hand in reassurance and whispered comforting words, trying to take her mind of it.

They arrived at lunch to the royal castle, that was situated by the outskirts of London, greeted by the royal guard and servants lining up to meet and take the luggage. The castle itself was quite breathtaking, almost like a book from those few fairy tales her mother talked to her about when she was little. And the garden was flawless as expected, with trimmed bushes and trees with beautiful flowers. When she stepped out of the carriage, Damon of course took her hand and led her down the small stairs and she could not resist the friction that caused heat ripple down her stomach and when she gazed softly to reach his eyes. She was responded with a heated look of his own, and his lips constrained a smile.

John cleared his throat and Elena flinched internally, but turned and let him take her arm as they walked up the staircase leading to the gates of the castle where she could see the royal family waiting for them.

Elena had temporarily forgotten what a big family they were and was hit with jealously for a second, remembering what she had lost. There was man stepping down in front of the others, waiting to greet them. He was quite handsome, she had to give him that. He was tall and well muscled, seemingly athletic with wavy walnut colored hair that ended at his shoulders. She knew of his good looks, having seen it a few years before. The man in question had pointed, aristocratic features, and high cheekbones, and stubble across his cheeks. He has a curious smirk, his dark brown eyes eyeing her up and down.

"My prince, may I introduce, my niece, Duchess Elena Gilbert." John bowed down as Elena curtseyed her eyes staying on his face.

"My prince," she followed as well as his eyes fixated on hers. It settled a deep cold feeling in her stomach, and she had wished he could perhaps invoke what Damon had did when they first had met, but she was disappointed. But she graced a smile on her lips, "Elena, such a lovely name. I have not forgotten it." He had a heavy victorian accent which could be alluring for others but not her, "Allow me to introduce myself once more for old times sakes. I'm Klaus Mikaelson, crown prince of England." It was like they hadn't met at all before. Could they not keep it that way?

"My son seem to forget his manners and seldom remembers to introduce the rest of the family, since he so insisted to do it himself and not let a marshal do it," A deep voice rumbled as another man walked down the stairs, and Klaus scoffed. Ignoring his son, the man with short impeccable hair, tall body continued staring at Elena with a scrutinizing glare making Elena wanting to shrink into her dress, "I'm Michael, king of England."

"Your Majesty," both relatives curtseyed politely, and they continued greeting the family. The younger sister who had flawless skin with pure golden hair, Rebekah, Elijah the very polite brother who was also attractive, Kol the youngest brother who was smirking at her, and Finn who remained stoic and the queen, Esther. She was surprisingly very friendly with Elena and she lost some tension that she felt with the rest of the family.

Damon had stayed respectably behind but when Elena gazed at him when they were about to enter the castle, he glared at Klaus's back with a murderous look. His face had been a concealed mask but she sometimes could still see how he felt, but his eyes were raging now, and she almost let a gasp slip by the intensity. She wondered why he was upset, but disregarded that thought as fast as it came.

When they had settled in their respective rooms and Bonnie went to servant quarters for the evening after dressing the Duchess and Elena, John and Damon steadily behind them, headed to the big salon for dinner. As they entered through the door, Kol frowned seeing Damon's appearance, "Is it really necessary to have him here? I don't think we will cut of your Duchess's precious head."

"Oh, let him stay its quite fun, at least he is more handsome then any of you." Rebekah purred with her victorian accent, looking at Damon with a glint of lust in her eyes making Elena clench her fists rather tightly in an unladylike manner which fortunately no one noticed.

"Rebekah, manners!" Her mother scolded heatedly.

Elena held her breath during the entire conversation, not daring to see how Damon reacted as he stood by the door next to a servant.

She sat down next to Klaus that kept smirking at her like he did when he first saw her, "I'm happy to see you uncle did not deceive me about you." So the game began, she saw John staring at her and his eyes told her everything of what would happen if she did not play along. So she did.

"Now, what would he deceive you about?" Elena asked innocently, smiling and arching one of her eyebrows.

"Your beauty of course, my lady." he whispered lowly, grinning at her. She hadn't changed that much during the three past years, had she?

"You are not quite bad yourself, my prince." She responded cheekily, making his warm brown eyes search hers with a smoldering gaze.

"I heard from your uncle that suitors have swarmed you like bees. You seem to have survived the tsunami intact." He smugly added, and eyeing her intensely for a reaction.

"Barely keeping my head above water," she playfully bantered.

"Good thing to. Would be such a shame to lose your pretty head to the violent seas." His innuendo was clear and Elena played along, "do you offer me safer shores and calmer waves, my prince?" His grin grew wider, happy she had some wit.

"I can't promise calm, but I can promise I will guide you through it." He cocked his eyebrow and the smirk was back in place.

"That makes me feel safe already." She whispered in a soft tone, before returning to her glass of wine, sipping in lightly. She needed it to make through this, if she ever would be able to keep her act.

His hand was stroking her bare arm under the table and she looked at him curiously as he grabbed her gloved hand gently, caressing her knuckles through the fabric. He was still grinning at her but it alarmed her, like a big warning sign. It was more intense, but she could not drag her hand back without causing a scene so she let him keep it. It was innocent enough but his touch did not awaken her body like Damon could, rather it made her feel uncomfortable. How would she ever see this through? Just then, however she looked at John and it motivated her enough to go through with this. She shyly smiled at Klaus who didn't bother to hide the grin on his lips.

She looked him dead in the eye, a sultry gleam reflecting outwardly, but feeling completely different on the inside. "Are you always so accommodating, my prince?" She asked apprehensively, returning a light squeeze on his hand, for him to know what she talked about.

"For the right person, love" and he intentionally dipped his eyes to her lips enough for her to gasp and he snickered quietly before releasing the hold of her hand and engaging in a conversation with a brother next to him, Elijah she thought it was.

She took this brief chance to look at Damon, unable to resist, and he was furious. She could see it clear as a day even with when he looked so emotionless, and passive. But his tense posture and the clenched jaw and those beautiful haunting eyes gave it away immediately for her. And it was like a pang of guilt hit her hard like someone throwing a brick into her stomach. It pained her to see him like that, but what could she do? He did not know anything about her situation, and he was engaged as well. How could it feel like he was judging her?


	9. Deadly Attraction

_AN: Thanks for all the reviews, alerts and favorites. They mean a lot to me! A big hug of love goes out to my great beta KaterinaPetrova that is my rock when I feel down with this story._

_The reason why it took so long to get this chapter done is because I got a very nasty flam-y PM about the story that totally brought me down + I found out I have an untreatable illness which made me go on a murderous writing rampage to get some of the bitterness out so this and my other story wouldn't suffer. Anyways nuff with the drama and I hope you will like this chapter!_

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_**11th of July, 1803**_

Elena closed the door to her room, letting out a heavy sigh. This past night had been the best charade she had ever put on. Her uncle was pleased and so, it seemed, was Klaus. They had shared a rather pleasant evening after the dinner, and she had gotten to know the family better. She liked Esther and Elijah. Klaus was nice enough and so was Finn, but she hadn't talked much to Michael or Kol so she didn't really know much about them. She didn't like Rebekah, but that might have been because of the the flirtatious glances she kept shooting Damon's way. Elena would have thought that she would have the decency, being the princess, to avoid that. Of course it could have something to do with the bitter jealousy that she experienced, too. Lost in thought, she didn't notice anyone else in the room before someone grabbed her, holding a hand over her mouth. She just had time to think how stupid it had been of her not to be more alert in these times, when the perpetrator spoke:

"Don't scream," he softly said. "It's me."

_Damon!_

He gently removed his hand, and she saw him standing there; anger and pain evident in his crystal blue eyes.

"Damon, what are you doing here?" She whispered, casting her eyes downwards. Her fear had gone and had been replaced with a tingling sense in her spine.

"Because of you."

_Wait...what?_

Was her last thought before everything diminished into nothingness when he slammed his lips against hers. She let a muffled gasp of protest before quickly succumbing what he ignited in her, wrapping her hands around his neck, wanting to feel him closer to her. His lips tasted perfect, and his body moulded perfectly against hers. All her previous protests, and thinking that they should not do this for all obvious reasons just were turned off when she tasted him, smelling his musky intoxicating scent like a switch, and she could not for the world turn him away. He pushed her against the door, and continued with his exquisite torture of tender kisses along her neck, her erratic jugular vein pulsating so rapidly she thought she would burst when he let his tongue flick over it. He wrapped her wrists and pushed them to the sides of her head and lifted his head to look at her. Her breath hitched and her corset was feeling far to tight around her chest.

Her mind was rapidly trying to remember the reasons why she should not do this but when her eyes interlocked with his, she couldn't wrap around in her head why she couldn't be with him. He was panting heavily, a gloss of sweat apparent on his forehead, and she looked at him with a hint of fear, not going unnoticed by him.

"You are right to be afraid of me. I'm not good for you, but I can't stop myself." He cupped her cheek, and Elena felt the whole world stop around her. His words, the intent was so intense that she did not know what to do with herself.

Her knees grew decidedly weaker as he kissed her again, softly this time, filled with something she could not explain other then lust and passion and she returned it with reverence, having to wrap her now free hands again around his shoulders to keep herself from falling. He groaned against her lips as she parted hers to invite him in. His tongue darted in and immediately caressed hers, making her moan out, and it spurred him on. The kiss became more frantic and demanding, and his hands started to roam where no man should touch an unmarried woman.

She whispered his name, and he kissed her neck again, hot breaths sending her body in almost involuntary convulsions.

"When I saw you with him, all I could think about is how you belong with me and how I wanted to rip his throat out for even daring to look at you." She closed her eyes, not being able to breathe no longer.

She wanted to belong to him, god, she never felt this right, so fulfilled as when she was with him, but the John's word repeated in her mind and like a bucket of cold water just splashed on her, she knew she couldn't let this happen.

"Don't say such things," she responded in a throaty whisper.

"Why?" He responded huskily.

"Because this is wrong, Damon. You are engaged and so am I..." She felt tears gathering behind her eyelids, threatening to escape. God, she wanted to, but she had to focus on Klaus. She had to, or her friends would be killed and she would have a life that could only be described as hell. Her heart broke when she saw how hurt he was by her rejection.

"Tell me this is wrong, that you don't feel anything." He kissed her again, making her heart flutter and her lips melt, "Tell me that you don't want this and I'll stop." He finished, his mouth dancing close to hers.

A tear glided down her damp cheek but she steeled herself and looked at him with callous eyes, "I can't." Her voice betrayed her. It was on verge of cracking and she lifted up her hand to wipe away the tear that managed to escape, "I can't" she repeated making him back away from her. Her body felt cold and hollow when his touch abandoned her. He looked like he was about to leave but then he turned around, hovering over her small frame and cupped her cheeks softly, but he whispered furiously;

"Doesn't what we've been doing here mean anything to you? There is something going on between the two of us and you know it! And you're lying to me. And you're lying to _him_ and most of all you're lying to yourself." He pressed his lips in a thin line, and his brow furrowed, his eyes glittering angrily and continued.

"You can't imagine that I actually would want you to admit that you feel the same misery that I do, to know that I have not been fooling myself all along." Her heart was thundering and she could not keep the raging emotions crawling its way all over her. His words were to much.

"Damon..." She tried to calm him but no avail, feeling the tears prickling her eyes. He was infuriated and his ice-cold blue eyes shook her to the core.

"I tried so hard to not feel this way about you. I know its wrong, but how can something so right truly _be_ wrong?"

"What's gotten into you?" She asked quietly, unable to answer his question.

_Life is cruel,_ she screamed inside her head.

"That's the million crowns question, isn't it?" He asked with a humorless laugh.

He cleared his throat, planting a smirk on his face, ran his hand through his hair and sauntered off, he looked like nothing had happen. To Elena, however, the agony clear in his eyes. He left the room, not allowing her to say anything else, leaving her behind in despair.

Damon had never experienced the brutal, angry, bitter jealously like he did this night. He had watched them closely, seeing how the prince was captivated by her. _Who wouldn't be? _Damon felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach, all air leaving his lungs in a whoosh as she lifted her head, smiling at him, encouraging him. He was confused. Why would she allow such liberties so soon? When they had...

Damon's breathing was coming hard and his heart was pounding, but he was unable to take his eyes off what was happening right before him. He knew he should not care, he knew he should not look, he knew it was none of his concern. He had no claim, and he couldn't make one even if he wanted to.

But it didn't help the fact that he couldn't get past what had happened. And it had pushed him to be dangerously aggressive and bold enough to sneak out just before they were done in the salon to go to her room, to wait for her, to confront her about something he didn't have a right to be angry about. And the things he said to her was well beyond forgiving, but when he kept seeing her face at dinner in his mind, he couldn't stop himself no matter how he tried to convince himself that he didn't give a care. It was the exact opposite of what he had meant to do, but something had just snapped inside him, and he had wanted to cruelly, coldly confront her, bruise her with his lips. He wanted her to remember how she felt when he did that to her. She would never forgive him even if she responded to his kiss. He had been too venturous and cared too much.

He didn't know where he walked, forgetting where his bedroom was. The castle was a labyrinth and he did not recognize his surroundings. It would not be wise to stroll here, people would think he was up to no good. The thought made him chuckle like a maniac mentally.

"You know, the servant quarters are down that way," a female accent said lowly from behind him, he whipped his head and saw the princess that was pointing to the hallway behind her. She was sultry smiling at him, coyly flashing her eyes at him. Her blond hair hanging loosely, letting her natural curls flow naturally, and she was dressed provocatively only in her nightgown.

"Thank you, your Majesty." He said curtly, sensing danger as he tried to walk past her. She held her arm out, touching his chest to stop him, "What were you doing in her bedroom?" She asked, and his heart stopped. Apparently he had not been careful enough.

"Whose bedroom?" He asked back, a small smile appearing on his lips. Better to play stupid.

She chuckled, and grinned like a cat, "Oh don't play coy with me. I have eyes and ears everywhere." His heart was speeding up, and his pulse was racing, but he remained impassive as he settled for his trademark smirk, looking the blonde girl before him up and down. "I don't know what you are talking about."

"Your secret is safe with me," she purred and she quirked one corner of her mouth into a grin and stepped closer to him, standing in front of him, "If you play by my rules," she had a lusty glint in her eyes but her threat was apparent, and continued, "It's been a while since I have seen such a handsome man in the castle." Her hand had not fallen from his chest and was now stroking his stomach through the fabric of his clothes and he felt that this would not end well.

"And I assume that your family would not appreciate us standing in the hallway all by ourselves, you talking to me, a simple servant?" He slipped out, making her lick her lips, "You wouldn't be the first. I'm not one for following the rules of society." She whispered, leaning against him. Usually he would not pass an opportunity like this, but she was the princess, and it would be a stupid and grave mistake. But then again she was willing, and pretty and after everything with...Elena - he finally caved in to call her by name, at least in mind - he could not control his urges. The frustration and anger was heavily clouding his judgement. Rebekah came closer and her body pressed against his, and pouted at him.

It was all of a sudden as if his mind was wrapped in wool and he found it hard to think coherently, but he knew he didn't really want this. At the same time, he was well aware of how soft she felt against him, and how lonely he had felt with the agonizing torture of a certain goddess that he left.

His weakness when it came to women really was overwhelming.

He tilted his head to the side, as her lips were dangerously close to his, "Neither am I." he responded huskily, and she grinned as she closed her lips on his and led him through a secret passage and into an unused bedroom.

Trying his hardest to block out all thoughts, he aimed to forget _her._

_**12th of July, 1803**_

Elena hadn't been able to sleep, not after Damon had been there. She couldn't think about anything else, when it should be the furthest thing away in her mind. But his words, so passionately spoken had scarred her brain, the thoughts replaying it over and over. Her mood didn't improve as Bonnie helped her get washed and dressed and get ready for breakfast with the family. Damon was nowhere to be found, while he would normally be outside her room at first light. She couldn't bear to think about it.

Klaus looked ecstatic when she walked in to the dining hall, and to her surprise it was only him and Elijah there.

"You have to excuse the rest of my family, they ate very early with your uncle. Although my sister seems to have gone missing." He said with a curious voice, kissing Elena's hand.

She responded with a smile, "It's quite alright."

"You look lovely this morning," he added in a hushed tone.

"So do you, my prince." she responded.

"Shall we?" He asked her, gesturing towards the table that was filled with food. She took his arm as he led her to sit down, and he sat down across from her.

"So, Elena. I must ask, what devious devices have you used to make my brother so calm?" Elijah spoke, taking a bite from an apple.

"My natural charm, of course." She coyly said, eyeing Elijah, making him twitch his mouth in to a grin.

"Do you mind leaving us alone, brother? I would like to get to know her better without your inane buzzing." Klaus eyed Elijah with a unexplainable stare.

Elijah chuckled. "Why of course." He smoothly stood up, gave her a quick nod and walked out the room, leaving Elena and Klaus.

"Alone at last. You never get a quiet moment in this castle. It's almost impossible." He drawled amusingly.

"Seems you succeeded in that regard, my lord."

"I have my ways." He smirked, and she held back a smile.

It was hard to pretend to act nothing was wrong, that she was happy, but all she could see was Damon's tormented face haunting her. She ate in silence, feeling nervous with Klaus unflinching ability to continue to look at her.

"Would you fancy a walk in the gardens?" He asked once she was done and the servants were cleaning the table.

"It's a beautiful morning," she smiled, and he took her hand to lead her down. On the way down the stairs to the gate that lead to the gardens, they met up with Damon. He looked disheveled and was still dressed in the same outfit from the night before, and she stopped dead in her tracks, paralyzed, praying that Klaus did not notice her reaction. He stared at them, and bowed and left to head to the servant quarters in a rush.

"Was that your bodyguard?" Klaus looked were Damon was standing, and gazed down on a very quiet Elena.

"He is." She remained still and lifted her chin, flashing a smile towards the prince. He looked pensive, but did not say anything.

He walked in silent, having a firm grip on her hand. Were she and Damon really that transparent for him to feel more cautious around her? He barely showed anything, specially around other people, but she was lesser of an actress when it came to concealing what she felt. She was nervous and just hoped she hadn't done anything stupid to jeopardize this. Nothing mattered in comparison of what would come if she failed to still have an engagement when she left. Even if it twisted like a knife in her heart when she saw how hurt Damon was by her rejection the night prior to this.

"I heard of the attack that he protected you from." Klaus said when they were walking in the beautiful garden. The sweet smell from the roses, warm sun were calming her already alarmed nerves. When she thought back to the day that Klaus was referring to, however, she felt cold to her bones.

"Quite the valiant fighter." He mused, looking at Elena with such an intensity, it scared her.

"Do you really want to keep talking about a servant when we have so much else to talk about." She smiled at him, hating to refer Damon as a servant. It boiled like a vicious fire to lie, but what choice did she have?

He laughed then, and her worries disappeared, "Now what might that be, my dear lady?"

"Well, I'm sure you have some fascinating stories to share."

"Too many to count, and too boring to tell." He playfully winked at her and when they passed a great oak, he pulled her under it, away from prying eyes, and her body was again acting on high alert. She hadn't meant to play him along like this, and she nervously chuckled, "This really is not proper-" but he cut her off when he kissed her cheek. She gasped, and could only think of the one man that she would hurt if he saw this, and she felt a pang of guilt in her stomach. She really had to stop thinking about him in her every waking moment of every day, every hour, every minute.

"I think we will get along fine," he whispered, grabbing her hands gently. "Why does it seem you fear me, love?" He must have seen her duress, as she tensed under his touch, feeling far to pushed.

"I have nothing to fear, my prince. I just don't want to give your family the impression that I'm a lusty harlot that hides away with their son before her wedding day," she smoothly replied with a smile, proud that her shaking body did not affect her vocal cord.

"You couldn't be worse than my dear sister, even if you tried." He joked, but she got very confused by his statement, and he saw her expression and hastily continued.

"My sister doesn't play fair, by the rules of engagement so to speak. Our entire family knows this, but has been too late to stop her from... losing her virtue for lack of a better word." Realization dawned on Elena and she made an "oh" expression, never imaging something like that would happen, especially to a princess. But then...she had been close as well with Damon. She had no right to judge.

"All we have to hope is that it never gets out and mother does keep a stern leach on her, but even dogs can manage to escape their masters to run off to mates. Even if the masters kills the mates afterwards as a consequence." His eyes glittered, and he flashed a dangerous smirk. He looked quickly around to see they were not watched and leaned closed to her, and she was distressed with his need of intimacy when she barely knew him, "My prince," she stammered, her face on its own accord leaning away from him.

"Nobody sees us, love. You played me along beautifully at dinner yesterday. Surely I was not fooling myself?" She was trying not to slip in unconsciousness as his words hit her like a brick, feeling dangerously close to nausea. She was not ready for this, and the words _fooling myself_, only had her remembering what Damon had said to her the night before.

"No, but I'm one for playing by the rules of engagement." Using his words against him, making him grin which was not her intention.

"I'm sure you can make one exception." He whispered silently, looking at her with lust in his eyes and Elena gulped.

She was about to respond but he pressed his lips against hers to quickly for her to react. She was shocked to her core, and felt nothing other then the nausea that was increasing. He wasn't a bad kisser, but there was no thrill, no excitement and her body did not explode in a bundle of nerves that felt like she was on fire. It was something done _to_ her rather than _with_ her. She had tried to close her eyes and enjoy it, but nothing happened. Absolutely nothing. He pulled away, a happy smile plastered on his face.

"What is life without a little excitement, dear lady?" He breathed close to her and offered his arm again before they resumed their walk.

They talked about history, politics, and beliefs. It came as no surprise when Klaus announced that he was not in favor of democracy, and liked how things were now. He thought Elena was naive when she fiercely spoke about her point of view. And it came as no shock either when he said that when they were married she could not speak of her political beliefs. _Really? What did she expect because he was a gentleman towards her now?_

And she longed to be just free. Free to make her own choices, be able to stand for what she thought, and be able to be with the one man that made her heart beat faster without anyone judging her or him, without having to risk a death penalty for their carnal instincts or have to face the wrath of John. A heart wrenching cry escaped in her mind.

Damon...

"_When I saw you with him, all I could think about is how you belong with me and how I wanted to rip his throat out for even daring to look at you."_

"_Tell me this is wrong, that you don't feel anything."_

"_You can't imagine that I actually would want you to admit that you feel the same misery that I do, to know that I have not been fooling myself all along."_

"_I tried so hard to not feel this way about you. I know it's wrong, but how can something so right, be wrong?"_

These words kept ringing in her head, and she fought her hardest to keep his sweet poisonous voice out of her head, but it was calling to her, just begging her to give in.

Klaus was saying something inaudible to her and she blinked quickly, "what is it?" her voice came out more constrained she had hoped, and it did not go unnoticed by the prince.

He looked rather angry as he responded. "I was wondering if you were enjoying your stay so far. Seems like you are away in the clouds."

She shook of her ministrations and exhaled deeply. "Your kiss should fare as an excuse to be wavering around the clouds, my lord." Just like that his expression softened at her lie.

"There is a ball tonight, to celebrate our wonderful union."

Not likely. "Wonderful indeed."

She settled for looking pretty and stupid as it seemed to satisfy the prince the most for the rest of the walk. He left her outside the hallway that led to her room, and as she started to walk to her room, she let out a gasp of surprise when she saw Elijah step out the shadows of the pillar covering him.

"I did not mean too frighten you." He talked in a friendly manner, and Elena just nodded.

"How was the walk with my brother?" _Horrible._ "It was pleasant, my lord. Your brother is a charming man."

He seemed to chuckle of disbelief as he cocked one of his eyebrows at her, "Klaus fancies you." it was a simple statement.

_Just lie, lie, lie. _"I would hope so, since he is my husband to be." She would need to go to church more often.

"Marriage is usually built on less." He spoke in almost a bored tone, looking at his fingernails before raising his face towards her.

He walked towards her, speaking to her like a teacher would to a child. "My brother fancies a lot of things, but they fail to keep his interest."

She just kept staring at him as he came close and talked in a low voice. "And when they fail to keep his interest, he gets new toys to play with, or breaks his old ones." It was a clear warning in his tone.

"I'm not easily broken, my lord." She shot back.

He smiled at her with pride, "I have a feeling you are not, my lady. But aren't you like every other naive girl, hoping to marry someone you love?"

It's either him or John. "Is your brother incapable of said feeling?"

He laughed but seeing her stony expression, he cleared his throat. "My brother lives by his own rules and feelings. Love is not one of them."

"And what about you, my lord?" She asked.

"Me?" He chuckled, and grinned cynically at her. "I do not believe in love."

She smiled sadly at him, and she thought of Damon and of her own accord, she said, "That is to hard to believe, my lord. Without love, why would we want to live?" He seemed stunned by her words, and was frozen in place and looked a her with perplexed stare.

"I fear I dragged out this conversation long enough." He said, barely louder then a whisper.

As he started to walk pass her, "I'm sorry if I upset you." She curtseyed. He stopped and turned around to face her, "I only wanted to offer a friendly warning. Klaus may seem charming, and he is my brother and I love him, but he is not tender. I want you to know what you will expect, so the disappointment will be less hurtful." And with that, he walked away.

_I already knew that,_ she thought with pity as she walked to her room where Bonnie was waiting for her.

* * *

_AN: I wonder who of you can guess which part was copied from the actual show? Thought it fitted with the conversation ;)_


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